Ice Meets Ice
by MaravillaKatana
Summary: As a daughter of a Mixed Martial Arts trainer, Elsa Winterhaven swore never to become involved with a fighter while Jackson Overland, a Mixed Martial Artist is grieving the loss of a dear friend and isn't interested in a relationship either. But none of those can stop the intense affinity and amorous passion that crackle between them. Modern!AU, MMA.
1. The Funeral

**_Disclaimer: The only purpose of this story is to hopefully entertain anyone who reads it. No profit is being made here and I own nothing but the plot._**

 **Rated M for violence, profanity and sexual content. You have been warned.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1. _The Funeral_**

Jackson Overland stood at attention, his ocean blue eyes narrowed against the bright sunlight. The priest's words of honor, bravery and sacrifice hit him like the wild breeze, teasing, hinting but not really making an impingement.

There was no mention of the Australian's sense of humor and short temper, of how he'd go full Weapon X mode when someone calls him "kangaroo", of how he always carried a stuffed bunny toy (his daughter's favorite) before his cage battles to break the tension. That he'd hit a McDonald's the minute they were stateside for a bagful of French fries, hamburger and a bunch of other unhealthy stuffs. The priest didn't know that before he recited the tearful eulogies. Edmund always kissed a photograph of his wife and daughter for good luck before making his way to the the cage. He wouldn't mention Edmund's love for the beach. It didn't matter how hellaciously brutal his fights might have been, the second he was out of every arena he fought in, he'd squander no time and hit the beach with his family and do nothing but enjoy the sun, surf and cool water for weeks. He'd often said those were his compensations for getting punched and kicked in the face for a living.

But that wasn't the Edmund they were honoring right now.

Here, at Burgess City Cemetery, Edmund "Bunnymund" Aster is remembered as a devoted husband, a loving father and a one of a kind mixed martial artist, but what makes him different is what he leaves behind. Here, they were honoring the memories of the nights he stepped into the cage and did things with his body and his heart that never should have been possible.

Jack looked to the crowd in attendance. Referees, commentators, fight announcers, other fighters, even some fans have made the trip to the cemetery to be with the fighter before was buried six feet underground. _He was that special_. But Jack's focus was locked on his friend's family members, particularly on his wife Thiana and his daughter Margaret and noticed that the raven haired woman was trying her best to keep herself from bursting to tears as she held her daughter's hand. As the priest offered his final words of comfort, his coach, Agdar Winterhaven gently placed Edmund's gloves into Thiana's shaking hands just as her husband's casket was lowered to the ground, and Jack, still watching her intently, noticed that tears had begun to stream out of her jaded eyes.

As the funeral ended, the people around him moved, shifted and left. But he didn't. No, _he couldn't._

Not until he talked to her.

He strode towards Thiana's direction and cleared his throat when he was directly behind her. Her shoulders straightened before turning around to face him.

"Tooth, I-I don't know what to say," he began awkwardly. "I'm so so-."

"Stop." She raised her hand as she cut him off harshly. The fact that she was his cousin didn't help things between them since he knocked on her door to inform her of her husband's tragic passing. With a shaky voice, she added, "If you're here just to say sorry. _Don't_. More than enough people have done that already. So, please, just don't."

"Alright. Just," Jack offered her a apologetic look before continuing, "let me say hi to Margie."

She sniffed and wiped her nose with a little handkerchief before nodding. Jack wasted no time and knelt in front of the little girl.

 _She looks just like her father._

"Hey, kiddo. You okay?" He asked, sympathy laced with his words. "You know your Papa always wanted you to be brave, right?

The girl shook her head, turning her desolate tear-stained eyes to her uncle. With all the innocence of a four-year old, the next things she asked was more than enough to make her mother's heart shatter into tiny pieces.

"Papa's not coming back?"

Thiana eyed him warily, shifted closer to hear better and wondered what kind of answer he would give.

"No," he said woefully and lightly shook his head as he inwardly cursed himself because he can't say anything, _do anything_ to take the little girl's pain away.

"Does that mean there won't be anymore Easter Egg Hunts?" Margie asked, voice trembling.

Jack gently pulled her against him and let her weep. Once she was leaned into him, he could feel his niece shudder as the besieging sobs wracked through her tiny frame, he delicately patted her back until her sobs mellowed into shuddery breaths. He looked up to see Thiana, one hand pressed firmly to her mouth to forestall herself from breaking down. She softly placed her hand against her daughter's shoulder and Jack automatically received her message, he slowly pulled away from the girl before wiping her eyes and offering her an encouraging smile.

"Remember what uncle Jack said, Margie," he said to the little girl, "You have to be brave and strong because that's what your Papa wants, okay?"

The girl nodded weakly and turned around to take her mother's hand. Jack stood up muttered the words _take care_ to his cousin and niece before he watched them depart the scene.

A suave-looking man with a scruffy goatee joined him scattering his thoughts. Grateful for the distraction, Jack directed his attention to Eugene Fitzherbert, his friend and teammate. His hair as brown and gleaming as the jacket he chose to wear, the man towered over Jack's own five feet eleven by at least two inches.

"You know what I'll miss the most about Edmund?" The taller man asked.

"What?"

Eugene smiled. "The way he loses his shit whenever we call him a kangaroo."

Both men grinned and let out a series of loose chuckles before their faces turned gloomy and Cimmerian.

"God, I'll miss him," Jack said in a calm and melancholic voice.

"We all will," Eugene added, echoing his sentiments.

They were quiet for several seconds before Jack clenched his fists as the bitter memory of a particular event clouded his mind. "He should have-."

"Not now, Jack," the brown haired man stopped him before he could say the word _tapped._ Eugene turned to look at him and shook his head. "Not now."

Jack was about to open his mouth when the familiar voice of their coach, Agdar Winterhaven was heard from behind.

"Gentlemen," the older man greeted.

"Coach," the two said at the same time as they returned his greetings.

"I know this is a hard loss not only for our team but for your family as well, Jack. Your cousin, well... make sure to let Mrs. Aster and her daughter know that they have my sympathies."

"You have my word." _That is if she ever talks to me again._

"And another thing, the gym's closed for a month or two." Agdar suddenly announced after a long moment of silence and Jack could practically hear the sound of Eugene's jaw dropping to the ground.

"For what, coach?" he asked in disbelief.

"I hate to say this myself but guys, like it or not, we have to recuperate from this loss, we need to focus on our training and we most certainly cannot do that while mourning Edmund." His head dropped, guilt overwhelming him, he really was not kidding when he said _I hate to say this myself._ "Look, I'm sorry for that, but I only want what's best for you boys. But you know, we can still-."

"We understand, coach. Have you told the others though?" Jack suddenly asked, cutting him off.

"Actually, you two are the last to know."

"Looks like it's time for a trip home. My father will be _oh so thrilled_ to see me. Thank you, coach."

You simply had to admire Eugene Fitzherbert's habit, no _talent_ for lying. Aside from his excellent Tae Kwon Do skills, it's one of his greatest assets. The man had a way with honesty that, when added to that smile, was pure gold. At least it was if you weren't the one he was conning. The truth was, Eugene hated visiting Corona and his father hated having him there. Yet the guy still smirked proudly as though the UFC Heavyweight Championship was put around his waist.

That's why Edmund had always called him Flynn Rider. The slick and suave guy who never runs out of sarcastic things to unload from his mouth. Jack was Frosty. The calm and calculated, even when he's faced against the greatest of adversaries, he never loses his cool. And Edmund? He'd been the Wolverine. The no-bullshitting and all-business guy, his whole life was focused on being steadfast, on being the best fighter he could be.

Eugene excused himself when his phone vibrated in his pocket, leaving Jack and Agdar standing alone. The rest of the people who attended Edmund's funeral were dispersing, their shoulders dropped as they made their way across the glade.

"Jack?" Agdar's whisper was barely audible but it was loud enough for Jack to hear, he slightly tilted his head towards his coach's direction and curiously waited for him to say something.

"My younger daughter, Anna, her birthday is in three weeks. We're celebrating it in Arendelle Beach and uh, I'd like you to be there." He announced awkwardly.

His eyes slightly widened in surprise, "Coach, I-I don't think.." he began but was cut off by the older man.

"Please, Jack, just be there. The truth is, I'd like you to meet my older one, her name's Elsa." With that, a stern smile and a pat to the shoulder, the head coach of Royalty MMA strode off.

Leaving the white haired man to comprehend his last words.

 _I'd like you to meet my older one, her name's Elsa._

Is his coach trying to set him up for his daughter? That sounded like a sick joke.

And the last thing Jack needed after the passing of a dear friend was someone playing the terrible matchmaker. He wanted to reject the offer, to protest, to call bullshit on it being that effortless to push the loss of his, no _their_ friend aside. But years of training and the respect he had for the man who took him under his wing eradicated that thought almost before it fabricated. Hell, Jack pretty much owed Agdar his entire career as a fighter.

So he had no goddamn choice.

 _Well, shit._

* * *

 **AN: So here I am, dabbling into a multi-chapter fic. Never though I'd do it. I might continue this, I might not. I don't know, I think I'm just gonna fade into Bolivian (oblivion).**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **Also, rest in peace,** **Cassius Marcellus Clay, Jr. aka Muhammad Ali. The nights you stepped into the ring will never be forgotten. My country is more than proud, humbled, honored and privileged to have hosted one of the biggest events in boxing history starring you and Smokin' Joe Frazier (RIP), "The Thrilla in Manila". Thanks for the memories.**

 **RIP "The Greatest".**


	2. The Sun in the Summertime

**Chapter 2.** _ **The Sun in the Summertime**_

 _He was smokin' hot._

The sun in the summer time. The Arendelle Beach. Anna's birthday celebration. Her caramel covered chocolate ice cream.

There were a lot of things to be appreciated in life and the things mentioned above are merely just a few of them.

They were all good.

But not nearly as good as the view of a ravishing, mostly unclothed man. The kind of man who will absolutely, positively make every woman cognizant about every girlie part she has.

The one walking along the water's edge was that kind of guy, Elsa Winterhaven's womanly parts tickled her. Drop-dead gorgeous, athletically-built and, since he seemed unaware to the women he left hyperventilating in his wake (including her), as demure as he was bodacious.

Average height, just a shy of six-feet, but she'd bet his body lined up flawlessly with her five-seven frame. His legs devoured the sand as he trekked towards the ocean, ambrosial broad shoulders linear, six-packed belly perfectly framed by a tapered waist. He had that lustrous, chiseled look that said he could kick some serious butt, but didn't have the bodybuilder mass that screamed _R-R-R-Roid Rage!_

White hair glistening with ocean water. His particular choice of hair color was unusual for men, but that didn't make him any less desirable. She fidgeted with her French braid as she moistened her lips, wondering if a guy who battled the wave would have a little pity when sultry days made her look like a deranged husky. She could see his eyes from her stretch. _Blue._ Like hers, and he had those dark, intense brows that made men look dreadfully sexy. Either blessed genetics or the summer sun had laundered his pale body with a golden shade.

She wondered if he was just as golden beneath those navy-blue swimming trunks. Was it too much to wish for a huge wave to help out in giving her a quick peek?

 _Come on, you insolent waves!_

"Will you just go over there and screw that guy's brains out already?"

Elsa glanced to the right at the sound of her sister's voice. Anna was flipping through a magazine with an all-knowing, mischievous smirk on her face.

"Don't know what the hell you're talking about. I was looking at the waves and-."

"Elsa," Anna interrupted with a flat look. "Your eyes have been following that sex-bomb for the last seven minutes. In fact, I think everyone in the beach saw how you were eyeing him, but they're courteous enough not to point out the obvious. You're not fooling anyone. And, gosh, is that saliva flowing from your lip?"

A deep blush formed at her cheeks as she felt the liquid tickle her skin and Elsa swiftly grabbed the nearby towel to wipe her chin clean off. The sound of Anna's giggle made her even more mortified.

"Doesn't even try to hide it," this time, Anna's laugh was full. "You know, you're not supposed to be fawning over at other men. Aren't you in a relationship?"

Elsa scoffed at the last word. The thing she had with her colleague Tadashi Hamada would never qualify as such. They have dated in the past, yes, but they were just friends... _without benefits_. Buddies, even, and not _that._ "I don't even know what we are, to be honest."

"You went to ends of the earth for a guy, Els. That says relationship to me." Anna said in a matter-of-factly voice.

"I went to ends of the earth to find out if Henry Avery's pirate utopia was even real or not," Elsa countered, "that says career to me."

"Oh, bullshit! You know Libertalia was proven to be a fairy-tale for like, a _really_ long time ago."

"How the hell did you know about Libertalia?" The blonde asked in mild astonishment.

"You're talking to a history teacher, sis. Don't act so surprised." Anna responded, smirking proudly.

Deciding to change the subject, Elsa spoke, "Anyway, enough about me. Since your birthday is in four days, I wanna hear about you, _birthday girl_. How are things going with you and Chris, um, _Weidman?_ What's his name again?" She had been away for far too long to even remember the name of Anna's high school sweetheart and currently, boyfriend. Hell, she could hardly remember the last time she'd attended a family gathering. So she considered herself lucky enough to have taken a three-month day off from her job so she wouldn't miss Anna's birthday celebration for the, uh. _How long has it been again?_

It's one of the perks of being a journalist.

Well, at least she's _home_ whenever she's home. Unlike some _asshole._

"Bjorgman. And it's Kristoff Bjorgman, you know, with the 'K' and not the 'C'. And to answer your question, things are really great between us! He's a gentleman, a great cook and most importantly, he gives the warmest hugs in the whole live world!" The redhead announced a bit too cheerfully. "And do you remember how big family is? He has like, at least fifteen foster siblings at home. I remember one time I went to his house, this little guy, small as a bandicoot, but god, he's heavy as a five ton elephant and his mom makes the best pasta and-, Elsa? Elsa? Hey! _Earth to Elisabeth Winterhaven!"_

The younger Winterhaven looked at her sister only to see her staring intently at the white haired hunk again. With that, she waved her hand in front of the blonde which snapped her out of her daydream. "Dammit! You were eyeing that guy again! Ugh, that's it!"

Anna hastily stood from the bench with the intent of striding over towards the man. Elsa however, was just as quick, and she grabbed onto her sister's arm before she could step away. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Where do the hell you think _I'm_ going?" The redhead returned the question, giving her sister a playful wink.

 _"No._ Anna, don't you dare." Elsa hissed as she realised her sister's resolve.

"Did you say _dare?_ Come on, sis! You've been hitting on that gorgeous guy the minute he entered your line of sight," Anna mused then gave her an arch look. "and _gorgeous_ is the best reason to hit."

Her grin shifted into one hundred degrees of iniquitous with that certain word.

"Forget it, I may not even be his type."

"Well then, let's find out, shall we?" Anna suggested as she successfully wiggled her arm out of Elsa's grip and began sprinting towards the man's direction.

Leaving the blonde with no choice but to abandon her beloved bowl of ice cream and run after her like there's no tomorrow.

 _Goddammit, Anna. You're so lucky we're celebrating your birthday._ She thought with an inward groan.

"Anna!"

But she was too late. Anna has already caught the man's attention. And right now, Elsa wanted nothing more than to bury herself underneath a pile of sand, or maybe crawl under a rock and die. Hell, even booking a plane ticket so she can go back and attempt to continue her search for Libertalia sounded tempting inside her head, that along with changing her name into 'Elena'.

"Oh, hey mister, excuse me," Anna called as the white haired sex-bomb slid gracefully to his feet. "Do you have a moment?"

Sex-bomb slowly turned his head to meet her sister's eyes, and Elsa finally got a good look at his own seductive blue orbs, just as mouthwatering as the rest of his body _(Gods above, help me, his chest!)._

His eyes bypassed Anna to lock on to her.

And just like that, her legs felt jelly as she felt his intense gaze travel all over her body. His gaze was like being worshipped in a scrumptiously cold bath. The icy blue depths were hot, opulent and bone-meltingly marvelous.

Elsa swore she felt the world budge as goose bumps begin to swarm all over her entire being. Or maybe it was just the sand beneath her feet as her sister squandered no time and shot out her hand for a handshake.

"My name is Anna," she introduced herself, her smile big and bright as the stars in the Andromeda Galaxy. She then gestured to her way, "and that's my _beautiful_ sister, Elsa."

"Jackson," the man introduced quietly as he took Anna's hand and shook it lightly. "'Jack' for short."

"I was wondering if you could come with me, _us,_ for a little ice cream? Our place is just over there." Anna gestured her hand towards their little bench. "It'd be a great favor. You can assist settle a disagreement between my sister and I."

He glanced at the women before him, then at the bench, then back at them before politely nodding his head. "Sure."

The redhead looked back at her sister and gave her a puckish look that screams _Anna 1, Elsa 0!_

Elsa seemed to have received her message as she glared back at Anna. _You are in so much trouble. Big time_. Then her gaze briefly shifted to Jack and realised that he'd looking at her the whole time she was having a silent conflagration with her sister.

And with that, her face instantly went bananas, or in this case, _tomatoes_.

 _Oh, God. This stranger is going to be the death of me._

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for reading! Sorry about the** _ **Uncharted**_ **references. I couldn't help it.**

 **Also this is NOT a sequel of any kind to** _ **A Fighter's Remedy.**_

 **On other notes. Holy shit! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! I, for one did not expect Michael Bisping to win at UFC 199 and I'm still in shock and disbelief that he ended it with a fucking KNOCKOUT!**

 **Calling it right now, Bisping/Rockhold 2 is the 2016 "Upset of the Year".**

 **Congratulations to "The Count", you've definitely come a long way.**


	3. The Roses of Recollection

**Chapter 3. _The Roses of Recollection_**

Once his ass was parked on the bench, the redhead wasted no time handling him a bowl of chocolate ice cream. But Jack was not interested in the dessert, sure he loves ice cream, even more so when the sun is burning him to death, but right now, his focus was directed at something else, _someone_ else. He glanced at the pretty redhead, and the proffered ice cream, then at the seductive beach temptress sitting beside her, just a few inches away from him. She looked like a heavenly gift from summer, as searing as the season itself. All platinum blonde hair in a loose French braid and sexy pale skin. And she's blushing.

She made his mouth water.

Any other time, he would have made a move to jump her bones. But instead of offering solace, the last two and a half weeks had simply pounded home his affliction. Made it a hell lot worse. He stayed at Eugene's place for a while. Only back a few days from a visit home, Eugene had been a lousy company. Quiet, sullen and saturnine, wallowing in the bitch of a mood that always went with dealing with his family, especially his father. It gave him a good enough excuse to leave when he remembered Agdar's invitation to his daughter's birthday celebration. So Jack wasted no time and absconded to the beach.

The beach was a better company than Eugene, after all.

"So what argument are we talking about here?" he heard himself asking.

"Elsa thinks a hot date is dinner and a movie," redhead told him, tilting her bright golden sunglasses down her nose to offer a chucklesome eye roll. "Ho-hum, is it not? Me, I think a club and dancing until you ran out of gas is the way to go. What do you say, mister?"

With a spoon full of ice cream halfway to his mouth, Jack stopped to look at her

 _What is she up to?_ He thought with amusement.

Tempted to cackle, Jack offered the blonde a look of bafflement. Her grin was like a ray of light, reaching out to pull him out of the oblivion he hadn't even realised he'd been unknowningly sunk into.

"A bit of both, I guess," Jack said. "Dinner and dancing. I'd like to keep it balanced that way, though I can't dance if my life depended on it."

"Ah." The redhead's smirk didn't budge, her poise didn't shift, but the way she nodded indicated that she got the message that she wasn't his type. "Then I guess it's a _unanimous_ draw. Oh, and don't worry, I'm not trying to hit on you, Elsa is. I'm in a relationship, just so you know."

With that, Anna adjusted her sunglasses to her eyes and strode off but not before giving her sister a wicked grin. _Good luck_. She mouthed.

"You'll have to excuse my sister," the blonde said and Jack could tell she was clearly mortified. "She just gets a little overexcited whenever she meets new people. She's not lying though, she really is in a relationship."

"Guess I can't blame her for that. My niece is so much like her."

The word 'until' was on the tip of his tongue but Jack stopped himself before he could say it.

"Such a gentleman." she cooed, and whether the seductive tone in her voice was intentional or not doesn't really matter because when he look at her, her lips were full with an obvious underbite that spelled all kinds of luscious to Jack's suddenly wide-awake libido.

A hot black rose tattoo was marked on the underside of her neck and it took almost every ounce of willpower he has to stop himself from kissing it. Her body, more than enough fervent to make any man appreciate summer, was jaw-dropping. He looked at her up and down, taking in her long creamy white legs and bare freckle dusted shoulders, chest covered in a tiny light blue bra and legs packaged in an equally tiny khaki shorts that hugged and highlighted her curves. He suddenly wished like hell he'd met her at another place in a different time.

One where he could lavish that sexy body with mad desire in every waking moment of her life.

Jack was the kind of guy who had built his life and career by taking an enormous amount of punishment and risks. The words _"protect yourself at all times"_ mean absolutely nothing to him, in every fight he usually takes three or four strikes to land single blow of his own. In a nutshell, he was the "live by the sword, die by the sword" guy.

Relationship? Sex? _Commitment?_

Those things did not work out for him.

They never did.

The images of Edmund's last fight flashed through his mind, the last thing he'd seen from his buddy was the sharp look he gave his opponent before he lunged in without warning, got caught with a counterpunch, and was put to a devastating guillotine choke.

He never tapped out.

Let his pride get the better of him.

And because of it, the team lost him. His wife lost him. His daughter lost him.

Submerged by the bitter, haunting memory, Jack turned his gaze towards the ocean as he looked to find solace again. The water and the sand weren't cooperating in offering him anything, though. On their own accord, his eyes traveled back to the breathtaking blonde.

She didn't look like the kind of a woman who'd want a relationship with a man like him.

But maybe that's what he needed right now. No, _she was_ what he needed right.

His eyes traveled over the smooth pale skin of her bare belly, greatly appreciating her sexy abs. His body churned. Blood pumped. For the first time in two weeks, he felt life return to his body.

He wanted to think that the reason he'd come here was to search for a remedy and not to celebrate the birthday of, for lack of a better term, someone he doesn't even know. A stranger.

And as much as losing himself in a body as hot and savory as Elsa's sounded so tempting, he knew better. He may not be the brightest, most logical man in the world but he knew that a man fighting demons has to avoid vises. Liquor, dope, gambling. Beautiful, luscious women. Anything that will make a man numb to the memories.

Jack could practically hear his body scream a number of hideous obscenities at him. Ten years of making a living inside in the cage meant he still had a ton to choose from. Still, he'd put his body through so much worse than denying it a gorgeous woman.

He'd get over it.

"Thanks, but I've got to go," he finally said, looking at her directly in the eye, "Thanks for the dessert."

Before he could change his mind, he put the half-finished bowl of ice cream on the table before walking away leaving Elsa with a look of disappointment clouding her beautiful face.

But he just kept striding away, not turning his eyes back to the gorgeous blonde.

And regretted every step he took.

* * *

 **AN: I know, it's weird that Jack did not acknowledge Anna and Elsa as Agdar's daughters, but that will be addressed later. And later chapters will be much longer, I promise!**

 **It's almost been a week and I'm STILL trying to move on from Rockhold/Bisping 2. Hahahahahahaha. I'm so fucked.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. As Daylight Dies

**Chapter 4.** _**As Daylight Dies**_

"Tadashi, I've thought about it a lot believe me," Elsa said, trying her best to lower her voice in an attempt to keep their conversation private inside the diner. It was aleady afternoon, and after the hunky guy had walked out on her on the beach earlier that morning, she'd realised she had to deal with the issue to stop herself from going mad before setting out for Australia in three months.

Three months. That should give her enough time.

"I very much value our friendship, it's really important to me. But I think we should just keep it that way and try not to damage it by turning it into something more."

After emitting those horribly discomforting words, Elsa contained her breathing and waited for Tadashi's reply because... well, she's about to send him to the wonderful land of _friendzone_. The smile not leaving his face, the man took a sip of his soda then wiped his lips with a nearby napkin. Taking a moment to sort his answer, Elsa realised with a flinch.

Then he gave her his best 'Agent Smith Stare'.

"We'll be just fine. Worrying is as usual and natural as breathing before taking a relationship to the next level. Don't lose your head over it," he said calmly.

 _Worrying is natural IF we are in a relationship. And what we have would not, NEVER qualify as such.. And sure, add nerves to the mix if they went perfectly fine with questions like 'will you like seeing me bare?' or 'do you have a problem with not-so-natural kinky positions?'_

Elsa felt that she was sinking into oblivion with each passing second. She wanted to say something to end her so called 'relationship' with him, but at the same time, she didn't want to hurt the man.

However, after seeing Mr. Hot-Sexy-Gorgeous-Handsome Jack on the beach earlier, she knew there was no frigging way in hell she could, _would_ settle for a passionless relationship. Sex, lust, desire, attachment, _love_ , they were very, very significant. She could have just chased him down the beach, throw herself at his feet and plead for him to let her make up for her sister's weird attitude by jumping his bones and sucking her way up his bodacious body. Hell, even thinking about him made her sexually turned on, she'd already lost herself in three earthshattering orgasms back at the hotel she'd been staying in, once on the bed, and twice in the shower.

But for some reason, seeing the fallen look on his face just before he left stopped her from doing so. She got a good look on him when he put his bowl of ice cream down before striding off. His eyes were watery, his face was heavy with obvious desolation and Elsa couldn't tell if he was attempting to calm down or willing himself not to cry. Perhaps, she decided, it was a bit of both. Either way, she'd never seen a handsome guy like him look so... _broken_.

 _I wonder what's eating him up._ Elsa thought.

Unmistakably, those signs were sending her a stalwart message that she and Tadashi weren't meant for one another.

But he wasn't listening. Not to her subconscious let alone to her words. Tadashi had a habit of not giving two shits about something he didn't like. He believes that it's one of the easiest ways to make it go away. She has tried it often enough, and having an _asshole_ of a pretty much deadbeat father to prove that it didn't work, Elsa could empathise.

"Look, Elsa, we're great together," Tadashi said cheerfully, completely unaware that he'd just waved off her concerns with another sip of his soda. "We enjoy each other's company, we're on the same page more often than not. Our interests, our ambitions, we're pretty much similar. And like people say, 'birds of the same feather flock together'. That's what counts, isn't it?"

Elsa forced herself to smile. Because he was right. They were indeed great together and she genuinely enjoyed spending time with him.

But that wasn't enough.

"Those are all important and I value them, truly I do," she said before reaching across the table to take his hand. "But those are things that make for a solid friendship. Not a..a…"

 _Fuck!_ She thought miserably.

She couldn't do it. Elsa wanted to stab herself with the fork she's currently holding to find the strength and wit that would help her in letting the words loose, but figured it wouldn't do her any good. Instead, she found herself fidgeting with her hair and taking a sip of her lemonade. How was she supposed to say that she absolutely has no interest in him both sexually and not so sexually? Jesus, that would rip his heart into two. As a journalist, she specialised in the field of communication but for some reason, her thoughts and voice had never gotten along when it came to dealing with men.

"Okay," Tadashi said, "I know what troubles you. That flame is not burning between us. You think there should a passionate spark, some energy, some _physical embodiment of attraction_."

She damn nearly rolled her eyes and said _duh_.

Sensing both her discomfort and irritation, he continued, "Elsa, need I remind you that relationships based solely on sexual pleasures don't really last that long. They flare extremely fervent, then the flames die out just as quick." Tadashi leaned forward, his words as genuine as the drop-dead serious look on his face. "Better to base a relationship on stronger and more solid emotions. Things like our friendship and similar interests. As I said before, we share the same beliefs, the same ambitions in life. In my opinion, that matters more than a few orgasms."

Elsa drained her lemonade, the sweetness of the beverage matching the taste on her tongue. Was she really the kind of woman who would only settle for deliberate practicality? In bed? There was only one thing she wanted to be deliberate in bed.

Before she could give her honest opinion, though, Tadashi beat her to the punch.

"Listen, I need to crash, gotta take the first plane that leaves tomorrow, Callaghan's gonna kill me if I don't get to Cartagena ASAP," he said before gently pulling away from the light grip of her hand. "In the meantime, don't worry about us. Get some much needed rest in your hotel and enjoy the beach. Maybe try familiarising yourself with your family again, you haven't seen them in what, two years? That'd be great for you, trust me. And by the way, don't you have a family event this weekend?"

"My sister's birthday celebration" she acknowledged with an inward smile before she remembered that her father was going to be there. She clenched her fist and tried not to punch the table, because how fun was that going to be? Her father, who only comes home for a quick change of clothes, who gave two or more shits about his beloved gym than his own goddamn family, is attending her sister's birthday party. Elsa signaled the waiter for another lemonade before Tadashi stood up and walked towards the exit.

"Just let it go for now and enjoy your day off. There'll be plenty of time to think about all that later, believe me." He said before opening the door. He looked so sincere, so sweet, that it almost hurt to have to reject him. But she wasn't going to change her mind, and the sooner he accepted that, the sooner they could remain friends without one of them singing 'The End of Heartache' in the end.

"Take care, Elsa," he said just before he left, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Her mind traveled back to hot, sexy and gorgeous Jack on the beach that morning and let herself focus on the image of his body, so strong and chiseled, glistening with ocean water. Now, that was the kind of guy who inspired wet dreams and made a lady all hot and bothered and very aware that she was female. But for a woman with issues, such as herself, that delectation was out of reach.

So it's too bad she probably wouldn't even get a chance to see if the reality of hot, sexy and gorgeous was as savory as the fantasy.

She could have called it her 'compensation'.

But who was she kidding? She knows she just wants to try the mind-blowingly marvelous sex with him.

* * *

It was already dusk when she left the diner, Elsa paid the cab and stepped onto the tidy sidewalk in front of Honey Lemon's. The club-slash-bar that fronted a short stretch of the beach, lit up like an amusement park for children.

She has no freaking clue why or how she ended up in a place like this. She didn't need a drink, she's had three lemonades back at the diner already. But calling it a day and going home was not exactly what she wanted to do, either.

She's already had enough of Anna relentlessly teasing her to death. And the thought of having to converse with Tadashi any longer, putting up an act like everything was A-Okay, was enough to almost, _almost_ make her go on a rampaging killing spree, literally. Respectfully. She wanted to try to trip the light fantastic. To get overwhelmed in an ocean of strangers. And Honey Lemon's was the only venue she knew well enough to find peace and solace. The place, more often than not was always swarming with fighters and gym guys, Elsa remembered a few times when a Brock Lesnar, a John Cena and The Rock tried to fuck around with her. That was the thing she hated the most about the place, but it also had three main benefits. First, she knew the Honey Lemon's so well and was well-known by the people worked there so nobody dared to hit on her. Second, if anyone did try to hit on her, the mention of her father's name and reputation was enough to make them leave her the fuck alone. And third, she'd never get involved with a fighter. Like ever. Boxer or MMA guy. They were all out of her league. She'd had enough of martial arts growing up to know that a fighter's first priority was to his stupid, often risky career.

 _Fuck that shit_. She always thought with determination and anger.

Still, walking into the club felt like trekking head-first into the abyss. When she opened the club's door, lightning seemed to strike, the unrelenting neon brightness from inside the place was causing thunder in her brain. To say the place was loud was one hell of an understatement. Noise, so goddamn powerful it had to be felt instead of heard, assaulted her. Enthusiasm from the horde of people whirled in a sloppy mosh pit, coupled with a lousy air conditioner. Lights continued to sparkle and blaze irritably, depending on which direction she focused on.

 _Well, so much for peace and solace_. She thought as she decided to leave. She knew she should have just gotten home.

Elsa was about to head for the exit when something, no _someone_ caught her attention.

 _Jack?_

Mr. Hot-Sexy-and-Gorgeous was here?

Elsa smiled appreciatively at the sight of him.

He was just as bodacious dry and full-clothed as he'd been soaked and half-naked. In black jeans and a simple fitting grey top that did wonders for his broad back and shoulders. He looked like a guy who just needed a few drinks and some alone-time.

She began walking towards his direction and just as she was about to reach him, Honey Lemon, the cheerful club owner suddenly sat directly beside him and began flirting with him. Elsa tried not to cackle as Jack attempted to move away from the tall woman and for a moment, thought that he would outright tell her to fuck off.

She stopped when she was about five feet away and Jack spotted her then gave her a look of desperation.

 _Get over here_. He mouthed audibly and gestured for her to join him.

A smile formed on Elsa's lips and her feet started to move again. She bypassed Honey Lemon to stand directly behind Jack and bravely put her hand on his shoulder.

"He's with me, Lemon," she said firmly.

"Prove it," the taller woman challenged with a playful grin on her lips.

 _Gladly_. Elsa thought with a proud smirk.

With that, Elsa snaked her arm over Jack's shoulder then pulled his body closer to hers. The only purpose of her action was to send the taller woman away but what Jack did in the following moment was something she did not expect. Elsa stifled a gasp, _or a moan_ when he suddenly wrapped his own arm around her waist, pulling her right to his side, as he did so, his hand nearly made contact against her ass. Then out of nowhere, he began nuzzling against her neck and she could feel him gently licking and nibbling that delicate black rose tattoo that was marked on it. Elsa was lucky enough that she was wearing a pair of black jeans that evening, otherwise nothing would have been able to hide the wetness that had now formed between her legs. She had to force her breath to remain constant and her vision to clear as her womanly parts continued to have festival.

"Like I said," Elsa said as soon as she knew her voice was steady while ignoring the desire shooting from her core, "He's with me. And he doesn't need you fawning all over him just 'cause he has a handsome face."

Honey Lemon could only giggle and blush awkwardly as she must have been extremely uncomfortable watching them, before giving them an apologetic look. "Oh, right, sorry 'bout that. You two enjoy yourselves. Good evening, Elsa."

She muttered some sort of excuse before leaving them. It took a moment for Elsa to finally control her girlie parts and put on a friendly face so she could face him. When she got good look at him, Elsa saw was the last thing she expected. His eyes were heavy with unshed tears and were slightly bloodshot. _Had he been crying?_

"Whoa," she murmured. "Are you alright?"

"From the beach, right? You and your sister," he slurred.

"Uh, yeah. Are you okay?" Elsa asked with concern.

"Fine. Had a few beers but I'm fine."

"Your eyes are kinda droopy."

"Oh, uh," Jack gave her an embarrassed blush as he hastily wiped his eyes then offered her a slightly nervous chuckle.

"So, what's bothering you?" Elsa asked again.

"Doesn't matter. Come on, let's get out of here."

She was about to open her mouth but he gave her no time to argue as he suddenly stood up from the stool and took her hand. The crowds had quickly lessened since her arrival, making it easier for him to hastily pull her along towards the exit.

"Where are we going?" Elsa asked while trying not to faint from the feel of his hand around hers.

"Anywhere but here." he responded nonchalantly when they reached the door.

* * *

Stepping out the club doors into the chilling night air, Elsa gave herself a second to adjust to the lack of noise and appreciate the silence. Jack guided her to a nearby bench and they both parked their asses on it. She was about to say something when Jack beat her to the punch.

"Thanks," he muttered softly. "She was not listening to me when I said _no_."

"You're welcome, and I feel you. Trust me, I know the feeling of people brushing you off whenever you try to get them listen to you."

"Hmm." he hummed, a sweet yet sad smile forming on his lips

Jack looked a little lost as he glanced around the area, his expression blank. As though he wasn't sure how he ended up there. Elsa's heart swelled. She knew he was hurt. She knew he was not pretending to be wounded, if a guy wanted a woman's attention, the last thing he'd do is to act as if he needs to be saved. She wanted to crush him in her arms, pull him close and never let him go. Maybe even let him suck on her breasts while she combed her fingers through his ashen hair.

Her nipples tightened as if that's what she's really going to do.

Elsa wondered what's giving him so much sorrow. Maybe if she could get him to talk, he'd open up. Let it all out so he could begin healing. Elsa wanted to help him and she knew she could not just leave Jack there at the mercy of his pain.

So for a start, she did the only thing she could think of, the only thing that she felt they both needed. She gently cupped his cheeks, tilted his face towards her direction with shaking hands, pulled him in, and clashed her lips against his.

* * *

 **AN: I wrote this at three in the morning. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing. Hahahaha. I feel like a fucking zombie.**

 **Had to change the chapter's title because the previous one sucked balls.**

 **Also, anyone else excited for _Manos De Piedra_ (Hands Of Stone)? I know I am because I'm so fucking pumped up.**

 **Thanks for reading! See you soon for chapter 5!**

 **PS: Did anyone get the _Borderlands_ reference? You know, _Handsome Jack?_ No? Okay.**


	5. Romántico

**Chapter 5** _ **. R** **omántico**_

Jack's stomach did all kinds of spinning ninja shits inside his body as the seductive blonde temptress held his lips against her own.

 _Holy shit! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! Is this really happening!? Shit son, squirm! You're not supposed to doing that kind of shit right now!_

Jack ignored what his mind was saying and continued to cherish the warm feeling of her lips against his. There was no urgency, only slow, sensual passion and it didn't take long before their tongues danced with one another, he relished her savory taste for a second before realising that they were in a very inappropriate scene. So with every bit of control he had left, his eyes snapped open before hastily, _and regretfully_ pulled away from those luscious red lips.

What ensued in the following seconds was an extremely awkward tension rivaling that of Georges St-Pierre's infamous _I'm not impressed by your performance_ moment as they glanced around everywhere and refused to meet each other's eyes. Jack could almost literally hear a rat piss on cotton, that's how quiet it was. After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence, it was Elsa who finally broke the quietness.

"I-I'm sorry," Elsa stammered awkwardly and Jack could see that faint blush that swarmed her cheeks from the corner of his eye. "I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Oh, god."

She sounded as if she was going to cry and Jack could not tell whether it was because of what she did or because of _what she didn't finish._

"It's okay, I _liked_ it, actually, it's just... we're kinda in a _very_ public place." he soothed calmly, though his voice rose slightly on the last three words. "So I figured that it wouldn't do us any good if someone walked in on us while we were making out."

"…oh." Elsa interjected and he could see her eyes widened as she glanced down in understanding. Even though it was getting darker by the minute, Jack could see her cheeks burning with an even brighter shade of crimson. "Oh."

"Oh," Jack repeated with a smile, finally tilting his face towards her direction. He slowly stood up from the bench and offered her his hand. " So, uh, what do you say, Miss Elsa? How about we just call it a night and I'll walk you home."

Elsa nodded slowly, still unable to meet his eyes as she took his hand. "Look, I'm really sorry about that. I know it's dumb and I shouldn't have done it but-."

"Hey now," he gently squeezed her hand to stop her from babbling nonsense about their kiss being dumb because who was she kidding? He liked, _loved_ it. He loved the feeling of her lips against his. _So soft_. The sweetness of her tongue. _Was that lemonade?_ And the warmth of her hands. _Flawless_. "Like I said, it's okay. You don't have to apologise."

Though her cheeks were still burning, it was safe to say that she has finally calmed her nerves. "Right, I'm sor-, I mean, we should get going. The hotel I'm staying in is just a couple of blocks from here."

"Alright."

Though Elsa said that the hotel wasn't that far, the trek to their destination was lengthy and morose. And needless to say, the uncomfortable silence was killing Jack, so when it looked like she was never going to say something, he did.

"So, what were you doing in a place like that?" He asked curiously.

"Oh, the club? Well, I was just looking to hang out and have a little R&R," she answered a bit sheepishly.

He almost laughed at her answer, "Seriously? R&R in a club?"

"I know. But it's the only place where I can feel safe to spend time alone because, well, the people who worked there know me so well. That's why the blonde acted so friendly towards me when I sent her away."

"Ahh."

She giggled and he found that very cute, no _sexy_. "Yeah. Anyway, I could ask you the same question. What were you doing in that place? You looked a _little lost_ when I saw you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Maybe I should clarify, then. Arendelle is also known as the "Fighters' Utopia", and just in case you don't know the reason why: nearly everyone who lives here is either a fighter or a fight enthusiast. So that's that."

Jack grinned a little before looking down at her. "You don't think I belong here? Is that what you're saying, Miss Elsa?"

"Okay, first of all, stop with the 'Miss Elsa' thing, I know you're a gentleman but you're killing me here. So _please_..."

He nodded, his smile not leaving his face.

"Secondly, I never said that you don't belong here." she said, voice still a bit nervous and he could feel her run her eyes all over his body. His manly ego and pride swelling, "You've certainly got the body and the potential to be someone who uses his fists to solve his problems."

He raised his eyebrows when her eyes stayed a little too long on his jeans. Any longer and she's going to see a whole new _uncharted_ _territory_ down there.

"There's a 'but' in there somewhere," he prodded and that made the temptress blush again, her eyes suddenly darted back to his face.

"Indeed there is. You don't have the _assholeness_ and bravado I usually see in fighters." she said a little breathlessly, looking into his eyes again.

"Bravado, huh? Does that usually come along with the gloves and mouthpiece?" he smirked. He liked the idea of Elsa not knowing he was a fighter because for some unexplained reasons and despite the fact that he had only met her mere hours ago, he felt like he can be... _himself_. With her, he was not Jackson Overland, the MMA title contender. He was not the fighter, not the cage warrior, not the guy who has broken countless limbs and bones.

 _And certainly not someone who had just lost a dear friend_. Said a voice inside his head which he tried to ignore.

With her, he was just a man. And that was so damn appealing. He didn't want to tarnish what is gradually becoming the greatest encounter of his life because of his profession.

"You forgot to include the oh-so-ridiculous Tribal tattoos, but yeah, usually. It's the reason why I don't watch MMA or Boxing on TV, or any kinds of combat sports, for that matter," she said firmly. "I remember one time I caught a glimpse of a UFC match, this guy, I think his name was Michael _Pissping_? I don't know, that's how the commentators say his name. Anyway, he spat on his opponent's corner after a fight. I mean, can you believe it!? He already won, for god's sake. He had no reason to do that."

 _You should check out UFC 100. It was his 'greatest' night in the octagon._ He thought with an inward laugh because he couldn't agree with her more, Michael _Bisping_ (not _Pissping_ , but sure, run along with that) is a first class douchebag. Needless to say, Jack was more than happy when Dan Henderson gave him a dose of 'Shuffle Shuffle H-Bomb'.

"I just think bravado is essential among those kind of guys, like they can't live without it," she continued. "It either fits or it doesn't. But their athletic bodies probably help."

"So you like their bodies?" Figured. It makes sense for her to say that, because what kind of a woman doesn't get turned on by a man whose body looked like it could pass for Greek statues? Jack was not bragging or anything but he has had his fair share of post-fight interviews where the female reporters who talked to him (and never look at his face) either stutter when they speak, blush furiously or couldn't keep a straight face as they stare directly into his chest... _down his crotch_.

"I'm not a fan, to be honest."

"What the hell? Seriously?" He asked dumbfoundedly. _Not a fan? Fucking really?_

She grinned after seeing the shocked look on his face. "Make no mistake, though I am not a fan, I can't deny that I am amazed with what those guys can do. They're great. But if you add relationships to the mix, I'd rather oversteer my way out."

" _Relationships?_ " He nearly scoffed. Women always used that word. What it meant was having a good fuck with a fighter. Or a golden ticket to his handsome paycheck and benefits without having to endure the day-to-day work of a wife.

"Oh, look! We're here!" Elsa announced cheerfully, completely brushing off his question.

She carefully let go of his hand and held open the doors to a building named _Oaken's_ , the elegant, yet not-so-fancy four story hotel.

Jack cleared his throat. "So, this is it," he said. "Goodbye, Elsa."

Her head snapped up sharply. "Wait, what?"

"This is it. I said I would walk you home and I did. So, goodbye."

Though he didn't vocalise it, Jack was disappointed that they have reached their destination, it meant they would have to part ways. He lived up to his promise by walking her right to her home. He would like to know more about her and his mind is still filled with question like ' _What's your beef with fighters?'_ and _'Why did you even kiss me in the first place?'_. Still, he was a man who always lived up to his promise, if he said he will knock somebody out, he will do just that, and this one is no exception.

Even if there was a beautiful woman involved.

"Oh, okay," she conceded. He thought she sounded disappointed as well, but he didn't dwell on it. "Well, then. Good night, Jack."

He gave her one last nod before striding off towards the opposite direction of the hotel. He was barely five feet away from the building when suddenly...

"Jack?"

Upon hearing his name, Jack slowly turned towards Elsa who was standing by the entrance of the hotel, staring at him with hopeful eyes.

"Yes?"

"Will you, um," she hesitated. "Would you like to come?"

Jack took a moment to comprehend her words. He wanted to simply say yes, but that, he knew, was a trap. He felt that he'd already pushed the limits by leaving tiny marks on her neck and allowing her to kiss him. Who knew what would happen if he added staying-in-for-the-nights to the mix? Staying in for one night meant he might come back tomorrow, and the next day, to staying in together, to falling in love, to inevitable heartbreak.

Not to mention, the _things_ that could happen once they were behind closed doors.

He could practically hear his own body cursing him when he thought about rejecting her offer.

 _Don't you dare turn her down, you fucker! Don't you dare deny me, US something that we've been yearning for! Just fucking say yes! Say yes or you'll regret it!_

"Yeah, sure, that sounds nice." he agreed against his better judgement. The way her cobalt eyes lit up almost made it worth it.

* * *

As Elsa led the way to the third floor of the hotel, Jack was thankful that the 'Froch-Groves Handshake' level of awkwardness that they had to endure earlier had long since abated, allowing him to relax a little bit during their brief trek upstairs. Sure, silence still lingered in the air between them but it was a different kind of silence, it was surprisingly a comfortable one.

When they finally reached her room, he tried not glance at her ass when she unlocked the door.

He failed.

"There's a couch over there where you can sit down, or lay down if you like," she said once they were inside her room. "Feel free to turn the TV on. I'll uh, I'll go get us something."

"Oh, thanks," he gave her a smile before parking his ass on the said couch and grabbed the remote control flipping it to Fox Sports. It was Wednesday and he knew there were no MMA matches to watch on the channel but he simply needs an update on UFC 200. Just in case someone got injured or pulled out for unknown reasons, or if Jon Jones got arrested yet again for another highway mishap, he needs to know.

But when the channel offered nothing but a replay of the Alvarez-Pettis fight, he decided to switch it off.

 _Staring at a potato for fifteen minutes is way more entertaining than watching that fight._

She returned a few minutes later holding two bowls of vanilla ice cream.

"Ice cream?" he asked with a grin.

"Yeah. You didn't finish the one Anna gave you earlier."

They both laughed as Elsa sat down directly beside him. Happily digging in to the dessert, Jack decided to bring up a forgotten topic.

"So, relationships?" he said

"Huh?"

"What made you bring that up when we were talking about MMA guys?"

"Oh, right!" She put her bowl down before continuing. "Relationships, I'm a fan of the concept."

What kind of a fan? The die-hard? Bandwagon? Or the come-and-go kind of fan? Jack frowned. Was she in one? You never knew with women. He went against the idea of asking. The problem was, once that discussion door was open, it was like a double-edged sword with many pros and cons

"But most women here," Elsa continued. "They're all about goal, not a solid relationship,"

"What's the goal?"

"Trophy hunting. They're here to hunt for gym guys," she said, shifting closer. Close enough that her body heat wrapped around him, her scent filled his head with the image of sun, surf and sex.

Spoon halfway to his mouth, he stopped to ask. "Cynical much?"

"Well, you've met one. Remember Honey Lemon?"

He laughed even though her words echoed in his thoughts. "I thought you said you knew her well enough to be your friend."

"Oh, believe me, if she was a friend I'd be distracting you while she tied that rope around your body," she teased him with a light chuckle. "And tonight, you look like you could use a little distraction."

Blue eyes dancing and turning dark, Elsa leaned closer than ever. Jack almost held his breath so as not to be tempted by her aura. Arctic scent, which ironically just made his summer a little bit hotter, with a hint of something floral and purely female.

And in the next moment, her lips are planted against his once again.

With that, Jack let nature run its course as they left the couch to head straight for her bedroom, their lips not leaving one another as they stumble and fumble on their feet, knocking over various things as they made their way to the bed.

Hell freezing and pigs learning how to fly, Jack didn't care if this was twice in the same day that he has not finished a bowl of ice cream.

* * *

 **AN: How many Boxing and MMA references did I drop on this one? Plenty. And I'm pretty sure most of you know nothing about them.**

 **Special thanks to anotherboarduser (as always), Dianne and lethalshikaino for your humble reviews.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. One Helluva Night

**Chapter 6. _One Helluva Night_**

She was in deep trouble.

Deep, deep, deep, deep trouble.

Her heart raced as anticipation curled, tight and low in her belly. Somewhere between lust and affliction, it waited. Hope and fear entwined, making it impossible to know which to root for. Her nipples tightened, her thighs melted and her insides burned as his tongue moistened her lower lip before his mouth took hers again.

Part of her wants to tear that grey top from his shoulders, throw him back and fuck him senseless.

And part of her wants to wriggle out of his grasp, pull away from his lips and pretend that she'd never tried to be anything other than just herself. Pretend that they'd never engaged in this whole new level of stupidity and foolishness.

Elsa wanted him like she'd never wanted any other man in her life. Years, she'd behaved, she was the perfect girl in everyone's eyes. She'd poured herself into her career, into making sure she was the best at what she does.

But right now, she has already made the very crucial decision that the perfect girl is gone and if someone is going to take away her innocence, the ashen haired stud who was currently eating her lips was more than enough of a candidate.

She always told herself countless times that she cannot marry a man she just met. It has nothing to do with _hooking up_ with someone she just met.

It didn't take long for the guilt to settle in as she was reminded of the man who wanted her in his life. A nice, sweet man who not only treated her like a queen, but also sees her as the living embodiment of Venus and Aphrodite.

 _Stop, Elsa! It's now or never._ She silently stressed. _You want this. Stop thinking about Tadashi. This is not about him. You always tell yourself that he was not enough. He was NEVER enough._

And she wanted more. That was all that mattered at the moment.

Her thoughts disappeared as they landed on the bed with a resounding thud, which ended up with her straddling him. They pulled apart, gasping for air. Jack wasted no time in taking off her shirt, skillfully unbuttoning it. His lips latched on to the soft skin of her jaw down to the underside of her neck where her tattoo resided as he pushed the thin white fabric away. She moaned in delight as he sucked and nipped, her hands flying up into his hair to pull him closer. Elsa whimpered as he pulled away and began taking off her jeans. Jack paused to take a look, his eyes fixed on the matching blood red-coloured lace bra and panties.

"Whoa," he murmured breathlessly

"See something you like, Jack?" Elsa whispered with a coy grin.

"No, I don't like it, actually," Jack whispered back, teasing her with his voice. "I _love_ it. It's too bad you'll have to take them off, though. I really love the way you look in that bikini."

"I'll wear them for you tomorrow," she said seductively. "But right now..."

Her bra came off first, she hastily unhooked it and tossed it aside, revealing her curvy breasts and erected pink nipples before him.

"Mm, good thinking, Miss Elsa," he said, teasing her again, his hands moving to cover her breasts as he lowered his lips to her neck tattoo once more. He got to work at leaving a mark that she was glad the dark ink was there to have it covered when the morning came. But she didn't bother to protest.

"I told you to stop calling me that," she gasped.

"I like the way it sounds," he said, his breath hot against her neck. He brought himself up to look her in the eyes, his gaze was so fucking delicious. Like mouth-watering and panty-creaming type of delicious. She was hypnotised by the sight of his blue eyes staring back at her own.

Jack kissed her full in the lips again and with a moan, she opened her mouth and their tongues began having a festival with one another. His hand pulled her shoulders even closer to him before starting to firmly squeeze her breasts. Elsa moaned, it was then that she felt it. She could feel how badly this man wanted to screw her, how desperate he was to ravage her body.

Breaking from her lips, he turned his attention to her neck again, and then over her collarbone, and finally her breasts. His mouth lingered there, his tongue stroking each nipple in turn, soaking them in saliva, one hand reaching down to rub between her legs over the fabric of her panties. She whimpered in pleasure and anticipation, mind wandering to what she wanted him to do to her.

After a full minute of him soaking her nipples with his hot tongue, Elsa dragged his face from the top of her breast and forcefully set his lips on hers, which earned her a moan from him. As much as she loved the feeling of his mouth enclosing on her mound, she needed to take back some sort of control here or she would slip into a pleasure coma or die from the sheer pleasure alone.

Elsa grabbed the hem of his shirt and roughly pulled it over his head. Her hands felt his entire pale body, his body which gave her countless wet dreams and orgasms and despite only seeing once at the beach earlier, she felt as if this was the first time she looked at him. _Really looked at him_. She gasped at how well built he was. His chest was as hard as a rock, and she could feel the warmth emitting from his muscles. His stomach had a set of perfect abs, the hardness of them making her mouth water.

Elsa splayed her fingers across the taut muscle of Jack's chest before scoring them down his abs to the waistband of his jeans. She looked down to see his eyes and silently asked for his permission. He nodded and let her do what she wanted to him at her own pace, but when she took longer than a moment to remove his belt, Jack suddenly rolled them over so he was hovering on top of her, jerked his jeans down and kicked them off along with his boxers and Elsa did the same as her underwear shortly followed.

Finally exposing their full nudity to each other, Elsa smiled darkly and reached down to grabbed his thick and hard member with its tip already leaking, and Jack tossed his head back and groaned as she stroked him in the way she'd learned he liked.

She gently pushed him afterwards so he was laying down on his back and stuck out her tongue to give the underside of his cock a few gently licks, slowly increasing the pressure the closer she got to his head which earned her a pleasured moan.

Then, after hollowing her cheeks, Elsa enveloped the entirety of Jack's length in her mouth and his sensitive manhood faced the full assault of her self-taught suction technique. She heard him groan and felt his hand grab the back of her head as before his hips suddenly drove upwards and she choked as his cock hit the back of her throat.

After a whole minute of torturous pleasure, Jack pulled her mouth away from his cock and stared at her, his cobalt blue eyes turning dark and lustful as he did so.

"What are you gonna about it? Huh, Jack?" Elsa teased.

He responded by reaching up and pushed at her shoulders, forcing her to lay down on her back, then with one swift move, he brought his mouth down her core to which she responded with a moan of pleasure and relief. Jack began slow, steady licks up and down her rosy folds and suddenly, she was on fire. Hot, intense and wet, Elsa gasped at the pleasure Jack's tongue and lips offered. She pressed herself tighter against his mouth, her hips undulating, circling, trying to take him in deeper. Her breath came in short gasps, all of her being focused on his lips. On the feelings he stirred. Her arctic scent mixed with Jack's subtle cologne adding to the surreal, utopian feeling she had.

He sped up his movements and Elsa felt as if she was dying in the most erotic way possible. As he rapidly flicked his tongue against that sensitive bundle the way she liked, Elsa could feel her hips began writhing against his relentless mouth, could hear her own breathing grow uneven. Her legs trembled as they tightened around him. Her end was coming...

But then he stopped.

 _What the fuck!?_ She cursed inwardly. Disappointment slowly clouding her face.

Jack stood up, seductively licking away her juices from his mouth. He then brought his lips to hers once again. His mouth lingered there for several moments before pulling away and stared her down with a hungry expression. He took his cock and stroked it along her wet center and she damn nearly came from the lone feeling of him touching her.

"Tell me what you want, honey," he rasped.

Is that what he wanted? To make her beg? _Well, sorry Jack, you are in for a-_.

 _Stroke._

She almost fainted. No! She will not beg. She will not-.

 _Another stroke_.

"Tell me," he whispered seductively, his hypnotic gaze piercing into her soul as if he was trying to discover her every desire. "What you want."

" _Fuck me! Fuck me, Jack! Please_ ," she heard herself cry out her breathless demand because it was too much, too damn much and not enough all at once. She needed him inside her and she needed him right now. The perfect girl's innocence is now ready to be taken away.

With that, Jack swiftly pulled her toward him and thrust deep.

Elsa let out a cry of pain, knuckles turning white as she gripped the bedsheets with trembling hands. She was accustomed to physical pain, her years of being ragdolled around countless landmarks of the world like the Rub Al Khali desert, the Amazon Jungle and the snowy mountains of Siberia had dulled her body to most normal discomforts, but the tearing she'd felt inside her had been a shock she'd not expected. Breath coming in short, pained gasps, she leaned against Jack, trembling.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Elsa," he whispered softly, holding her close.

"I-it's okay. Keep going. Just... s-slowly."

"Are you su-"

"Please, Jack..."

Yo _u knew this would hurt._ Said a voice inside her head. _But it will go away. It won't last. Trust me, it will feel good. Just give it a little time_.

Elsa could feel Jack dropping kisses all over her face and neck as if he was trying to comfort her, he slowly pulled out only to bring his cock back inside her and held himself there for a moment so she could get used to his size and girth. Unlike his first thrust where she'd felt as if she were being torn in two then stitched back together at once, this one was filled with with pleasure. _Sweet, sweet pleasure_.

Jack lifted his head slightly and looked into her eyes, their noses touching. Elsa began to relax as her whimpers receded. She raised her hand and reached over to entwine her fingers with his. And finally, after bringing his lips to hers again, Jack began to move.

He moved slowly, with just a hint of undulation as he plunged. His hands gripped her ass, his strong fingers adding a whole new level of pleasure to the experience.

The pain had all but disappeared, Elsa cried out in delight as he accelerated his pace in a steady rhythm, she was now actually enjoying the feel of him inside her. She lifted her hips off the blankets to meet his thrusts, their moans echoing throughout the small room. All throughout Jack's constant motions, their lips collided again and again, as if kissing was what kept them alive.

Elsa didn't know how much time had passed, nor did she care. She was in Jack's arms and in that moment, nothing else mattered. Soon, she felt the sweat from his body mixing with her own, dampening their skin. She could feel the coil that had been tightening inside of her since the beginning threatening to burst and she gripped his biceps as she could do nothing but moan and moan and _moan_ in pleasure. _She was so close_...

 _Oh, my God_.

"You're going to come for me," he suddenly muttered, his words tight, low. _Breathless_.

And she did just that. Elsa's body shook with the intensity of her climax. Her breath came in gasps, pleasure so tight, so intense as she tried to reconnect with reality. Given that tiny trembling orgasmic aftershocks were still rocking through her, it wasn't easy.

But Jack did not stop there and continued to move inside her with his unrelenting pace, hitting a certain sweet spot deep within her womanhood. Her hands slid along his chest, nails digging lightly into his well-muscled, pale torso. Something in him turned, and he hovered over her, his icy blue eyes fixed on her hooded ones, before continuing to ride her.

Then, his thrusts became harder and more frenzied. Elsa dug her nails deeper into his chest as she could feel his entire body begin to shudder, and moaned and gasped as loudly as he did. He pressed his cheek against hers and continued to charge forward in a pace that nearly drove her to insanity. At the last second, she dislodged her hands from his chest and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, almost holding on to him for dear life.

And finally, Jack reached his own rapturous end, Elsa watched him as he cried out, tossing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. She almost instantly felt his thick, hot and creamy liquid which warmed up her insides, felt him pulsate within her as he rode out his pleasure. He gave her a few more thrusts before finally pulling out and laid his head on top of her sweaty breasts, as if he was trying to listen to her loudly beating heart.

She combed through his ashen hair, listening to his laboured breathing as she savoured the blissful aftermath of an act she had not experienced until now.

After a few seconds of reverie, Jack rolled off to the side, gathering Elsa in his arms. She weakly pulled herself up to kiss him, smiling as she did so before letting herself collapse onto his chest. They laid there for what seemed like an eternity with their silence communicating more than words ever could as they slowly came down from their euphoric high. He then pulled the blanket to conceal their naked bodies and though Elsa had already closed her eyes moments ago, she knew Jack was watching her and felt his hand gently brush over her cheek just before fatigue pulled her into the peaceful oblivion of a dream-filled sleep.

* * *

 **AN: 'Ashen Hair', I got that term from _The Witcher 3_ , you know, Ciri's hair being white and all. Oh, and speaking of Ciri, she kinda reminds me of Elsa. I don't know, she just does. Maybe because of the silver hair, pale skin, eyes... well, Ciri's eyes are green, but yeah, you get the point.**

 **Anyway, I want to thank everyone who reviewed this story and also the ones who murdered that 'favourite' button. It means a lot.**

 **Thanks for reading! See you soon for the next chapter.**


	7. Closest To Paradise

**Chapter 7. _Closest To Paradise_**

" _I need another chance to LIVE!_ "

The melodic screaming vocals of the late Jimmy 'The Rev' Sullivan, followed by the electrifying guitar solo of Synyster Gates reverberated from his phone at full volume and roused him from his deep, peaceful slumber. Jack groaned audibly as he slowly opened his jaded eyes and faced the full assault of the bright sunlight which was peeking through the uncurtained windows. The bridge of the song _Afterlife_ by _Avenged Sevenfold_ means it's seven o'clock in the morning, it's his _'time to get the fuck out of bed and start your day asshole'_ song. He had every intention of fishing out the little gadget so that he can murder that stupid little dismiss button, but was feeling a severe lack of motivation and decided to ignore it. He then closed his eyes so he could remain in the bed where it's nice and warm and-.

" _I don't belong here. I gotta move on, dear. Escape from this afterlife_..."

"Fuck it," he murmured, eyes still closed as he groggily slapped his hand to his hip for his phone.

But his hip was naked.

Just like the rest of him.

Naked. In bed. Sexy female body on top of him. That's when he remembered he was still in Elsa's hotel room where he'd been in for three marvelous, fuck-filled, lustful, intense days. He lifted his head. Elsa was splayed on top of his body, her head still buried in his chest where she'd collapsed after round number twenty-five. Face down, vivid platinum blonde locks curtaining her face, neck and shoulders, so only a hint of her sweet rose tattoo peeked out, she was totally zoned.

Given that they'd slept maybe a sum total of eleven of the last sixty-three hours, he wasn't surprised.

But he was grateful.

" _...Got nothing against you and surely I'll miss you..._ "

 _Oh, right. Alarm._

He stretched a little, making Elsa let out a small murmur and her left arm moved to snake around his waist. Jack smiled as he turned himself towards her, chuckling a little as Elsa pulled him closer and buried her face his chest. He would have started to run his fingers through her silver hair if it weren't for M. Shadows' relentless fry screaming that was ringing his ears. He carefully set her aside and slid out of the bed so he wouldn't wake her and looked around the floor to find his jeans which held his phone only for his eyes to widen and his jaw to unhinge itself from his face. It was almost a state of 'UFC Affliction Strikeforce M1 Global WrestleMania 3000' in her bedroom, their clothes were strewn everywhere. Her white button-up was just outside the bedroom door with her bra hanging off one of the posts at the foot of the bed, his black tank top was hanging off the ceiling fan with her panties. Jack stared in disbelief from the ceiling fan discovery before turning back towards the bed to see his jeans and boxers along with Elsa's own jeans lying next to it. Jack doubted that the tiny bedroom had seen worse.

After gulping and making sure jaw was still intact, Jack wasted no time and hopped out of the bed, grabbed his jeans and fished out his phone.

" _...When the time is RIGHT!_ "

"Well, thank you for that," he muttered sarcastically before switching off the alarm.

His eyes traveled back to Elsa's sleeping form, her pale creamy ass and milky breasts were poking out from beneath the covers. A smile almost instantly formed on his lips, with the pure white pillows, blanket and bedsheets, she looked like a naked angel sleeping on the clouds.

For the first time in weeks, he felt happy and alive and filled with the weirdest sort of contentment when he was with Elsa. She fascinated him. Watching her a few times while she slept had filled him with a scary sort of peace. Her body was a, no _the_ physical embodiment of the Garden of Eden, one he wanted to explore and lose himself in over and over again. He was grateful for the one hell of an experience she had given him.

Even if he knew that it wouldn't last long.

The smile on his face banished as guilt overwhelmed his entire being, he lamented the fact that he, for lack of a better term, had used her body to numb himself of the pain and memory of his best friend's passing. That was the reason he'd gone to the bar that night. After leaving Elsa alone in the beach earlier that day, he spent the next eight hours in his apartment doing recreational activities such as working out and taking his anger and pain out by beating the living shit out of the punching bag that he had brought with him. It was all going well until the image of Margie's devastated look and the feel of Thiana's forceful hand against his face which damn near decapitated him entered his mind, and it was just too much for him to bear. So after a quick change of clothes, he went to the nearest bar to pour as much alcohol down his throat so his aching heart could drown in the sea of burning liquid.

Because he just wanted to forget.

After two hours of sitting his ass down on the stool and slugging down his third, fourth, or maybe it was already his _fifth_ beer bottle, one of the bartenders, a tall blonde woman with a Spanish-like accent and a pair of stupid fucking sunglasses began flirting with him. Jack had already told her he was not interested, but the woman was so fucking insistent, the words 'fuck off' were on tip of his tongue right before he saw her, his _salvation_. The memory of that night's occurrences were still a bit cloudy to him but Jack still remembered what took place once he and Elsa were behind the closed doors of her hotel room. They started with two bowls of vanilla ice cream, small talks here and there about fighters and relationships then out of nowhere, she leaned closer to him, kissed him full on the fucking lips and after silently declaring their lust for one another, they commenced what was pretty much one of the greatest sexual encounters in the history of mankind.

The next two days had not been different.

While he enjoyed every single second of it. That still does not take away the fact that _he had used her_.

Then add the word 'relationship' to mix, it was more than enough to make him wince. Elsa had made it clear a few nights ago that she didn't want a relationship with a fighter, or at least she didn't when the guy was honest and up front. He knew there was no way in hell she would have let him ravage her body if she'd known who he was. _What he was_.

He needed to go back to real life but he couldn't say goodbye to her right now because that meant he would have to wake her up, and he really loved the way she looked while she was sleeping. His gaze dropped from her view to his hands. Hands that just hours ago had been all over Elsa. Had touched, explored every inch of her delicious body. Hands that were as competent with a pair of handwraps and gloves, and covered in blood as they were at bringing her to a screaming orgasm. Hands that were _weapons_.

Suddenly wanting fresh air and needing space, Jack threw on his jeans, grabbed his hanging shirt from the ceiling fan and left the bedroom.

* * *

Elsa woke with a slow, moaning sort of sigh, a smile forming on her face. Every muscle, every inch of her body was soaked in contentment.

She could hardly move, and wasn't even sure if she wanted to open her eyes. Except in her slumber, she'd miss out the fun and games.

And she _really_ loved the fun and games with Mr. Hot-Sexy-Gorgeous.

With a soft, purring sort of moan, she drowsily swiped her arm across the bed, frowning when she felt nothing but her pillows, bedsheets and blankets. Where _was_ he? Elsa slowly opened her eyes and scanned the room, blushing a little as she saw how her clothes scattered everywhere. Her clothes. Not _their_ clothes.

His clothes are gone.

That means he had already left. And for some reason, she felt empty waking up without him next to her.

 _Don't be stupid Elsa_ , she told herself. _You got what you wanted, and then some. He was a one-night g_ _uy who_ _'_ _d simply extended the party for two more days. Don't be a clich_ _é_ _and start wishing he_ _'_ _d ask for more_.

Of course, if he wants more, her body was more than ready to go for another round. He had already taken away her virginity, after all.

Running her hand through her hair, she tugged the platinum blonde locks a few times, hoping it'd shake loose the slight feeling of dejection. That her thoughts would line neatly up into nice, manageable rows the way they were supposed to.

What if they spoke?

But she'd noticed that Jack wasn't much of a talking kind of guy. Maybe because his mouth had been so busy worshipping her body and doing delightful erotic things.

 _Okay, that's enough. Shower time_. Hopefully the warm water would chill down her thoughts, and her body, so she could focus.

Climbing from the bed in a very unladylike manner, Elsa winced at the delicious soreness between her thighs. Clearly, her gym workouts didn't address toning hot, wild sex muscles. The few feet to the bathroom sent new clinks of delight through her. Her body a picturesque reminder of why she was on them, for the first time, she took her contraceptive pills, which had been with her for who knows how long. As she reached for the faucet in the shower, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Her hair was a mess, framing a face that almost glowed with residual ecstasy. Her lips were swollen, eyes heavy, nipples still erected. Whisker rash spread over her entire torso like a sunburn. Proof that there wasn't an inch of her body that Jack hadn't kissed. Worshipped. Pleasured in ways countless women could only achieve in their wet dreams.

With a shaky breath, she flipped on the faucet, enjoying the warmth of the hot water soaking her body.

Thirty minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom and stepped into the living room. Tension she hadn't even realised was tangled in her shoulders unraveled. And there he was at the table, shirtless and reading the papers with his bare feet propped on a chair. _Shirtless and bare feet didn't scream 'time to run away', did they?_

"Hey," he greeted. He folded the newspaper and smiled. Friendly enough, but Elsa felt as if she was under the sizzling hot shower again. "I figured on letting you sleep awhile. You looked pretty zoned out."

"You're sweet," she decided, belting her robe a little tighter and moving into the center of the room. "But you haven't had much sleep, either. Aren't you tired?"

"Eh," he shrugged, "I'm used to going without."

"Why? How?"

He got to his feet, offered a smile, then reached out to pull her into his arms.

"Good morning, Elsa," he murmured with a slight hint of mischief just before his lips covered hers.

Elsa forgot her question, forgot that she was supposed to return his greetings—hell, she forgot her own goddamn name—as his mouth took hers in a slow, decadent kiss. He pulled away several moments later and stared directly into her eyes.

His eyes darkened to a midnight hue, narrowed with lust. She knew that look now. Knew the promise of it. Jack was very needy in bed. And in the couch. And in the shower. And on the balcony at three in the morning. Wherever their lovemaking took place, was as if he grabbed inside her, took every bit of pleasure she could offer and then found a way to give her even more.

All her thoughts disappeared as he pushed the bathrobe from her shoulders before his mouth enclosed on her right nipple and in the next moment, he hefted her up onto the table and stepped between her legs, holding her close against him as he abandoned her nipple and slipped his tongue into her mouth. She let out a noise that was all female, soft and content, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to deepen the kiss.

"You're the most delicious woman in the world," he said against her mouth.

Grinning, Elsa suddenly pulled away from his mouth, gently pushed him and dropped to her knees, licking her way down his belly. His body was a little piece of heaven. Every inch was delicious. And she wanted to taste him all. She swiftly undid his jeans and grabbed his already thick and hard cock. She leaned down to blow a soft puff of air on the glistening tip of his dick.

It jumped.

She slid a glance up at Jack, noting the hazy, almost-stupefied-with-wanting look on his face.

With a smirk, Elsa licked the broad, sensitive head, her tongue, sipping gently at the tip of his dick. Then she slid it down the hard length, and back up, soaking his delicious manhood in her saliva.

"F-fuck, Elsa..." he groaned and cursed before his hands grabbed the back of her head and slowly thrust into her mouth. She peered up at him, a lustful and slutty expression upon her unblemished features as she effortlessly slid inch after inch of his cock to the back of her mouth. Even though his balls slapped against her chin, she couldn't get rid of the deepening red blush on her cheeks and the questionable sounds she was making as she deep throated him.

Jack then pulled away from her mouth after several torturous moments and grabbed her by the waist, flipped her around and pressed her body between his and the table.

Elsa's legs were already parted and waiting and even though she couldn't see him, she knew his eyes were glazed with unrivaled arousal as he watched her before he grabbed her by the hips. Elsa wiggled her ass at him, inviting him, _willing him_ , and looked over her shoulder, mischief in her fuck-me eyes.

She licked her lips in anticipation.

Taking the hint, Jack lightly spanked her ass with the palm of his hand. She gasped at the contact and smirked, and he did it again and again with more force, the cheeks of her ass becoming redder with each strike.

"Fuck me already," she said wickedly after one more hit, unable to wait any longer.

"Gladly," he responded before he plunged deep.

Her fingers dug into the tabletop. Her hips shifted. Back, forth and back again, meeting his thrusts. With each thrust, Jack banged against the sweetest spot inside her and she whimpered in delight.

One hand still holding her hips, he slid the other between her thighs, his fingers moving in and out of her core in a shallow rhythm.

She cried out.

He thrust again. Flicked once more.

Two strokes, then three. Her body exploded, spewing out her sex juices. Elsa moaned as loud as she could as stars partied in an uncontrolled festival behind her closed eyelids as she gasped, screaming his name over and over. The orgasm rocked her, her shaking body pressing tighter to the table, to his hips, as if she could somehow wring even more pleasure from the climax.

After several more thrusts, Elsa felt that he was nearing his impending climax as his thrusts began to lose their rhythm.

"Elsa... Elsa... mm," her name was on his lips as he held her hips and with one last deep stab of his cock, he came. Groin bursting and twitching uncontrollably as he spilled himself inside her.

Spent, totally empty, Elsa lay across the table as she tried to reconnect with reality. To catch her breath. To gather her thoughts. To remember her name.

"I've got to go," Jack murmured suddenly, his lips brushing the back of her neck, making her tremble as yet another tiny orgasm rocked her body.

"What? No," she argued, surprise laced within her words. She wanted to stand up and grab on to him. But she didn't have the strength. There was nothing left, he'd drained her dry.

She felt him move away but still couldn't open her eyes.

"Look, I've got a thing tonight," he told her as she felt his hands grab her by the waist, trying to help her stand up, "But I should be done by eleven. I'll come back."

She might even have plans.

Her brow raised on its own accord.

Wait a minute.

 _It's Anna's birthday!_ Her eyes widened.

"I'm busy tonight," she informed him.

"How busy?" He asked.

She sighed. She'd promised Anna she'd be there. And she'd promised herself that if she moved back, she'd make her best effort to get along with their father.

"Very," she said, glad she didn't stumble upon her words as she slowly exited Aphrodite's Chamber. "I've got a family thing going on. But I'll be back by midnight."

"Right," his eyes lit up. She then noticed the way his eyes moved as they scanned her body. He grinned cheekily. "Sorry about the mess I made on you."

She scoffed and smiled. "I don't mind taking another shower."

"Alright, then," he leaned in for a kiss and Elsa returned it happily, though she seemed to overstay her welcome.

"Elsa..." Jack laughingly urged against her lips.

"Alright," she chuckled before they pulled away at the same time. "So, I guess I'll just see you later, tonight."

"Looking forward to it," he said, giving her a quick peck on the lips before throwing on his clothes and striding to the door.

"It's a date," she whispered to the empty room just before the front door shut behind Jack.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry for the late update. Computer broke, so yeah.**

 **Anyway, this was supposed to go an entirely different route. My original plan for this chapter was have the two of them go at it in the shower but I figured that I'd rather go with this one since a similar shower scenario was already featured in my other story _A Fighter's Remedy_ (read it if you want, and please, kindly leave a review). Not sure if the change I made was good or bad, guess I'll just have to let you all be the judge of that.**

 **Thanks for reading (and for your patience) and don't forget to leave a review. I will see you for the next chapter. (Hopefully sooner than later. Hopefully).**

 **And lastly, since UFC 200 is behind us, thank you USADA! Thank you for ruining DC vs Jones 2. I really appreciate it. Fucking retards. And while I'm at it, fuck you too.**


	8. Un Gancho Al Corazón

**Chapter 8. _Un Gancho Al_** _ **Corazón**_

"Happy birthday to, um...well, I don't know her name but whatever. Cheers, buddy," Eugene said, tilting his red wine—in a glass, no tacky bottles at Agdar's daughter's birthday party—against Jack's. The sound was lost in the ocean of voices, yawn-worthy chamber music (at least it's not modern hip-hop garbage) and the almost silent white noise of the air conditioner. "Gotta admit, coach really did his homework on this house."

Jack shrugged and groaned inwardly. He'd been in Agdar's house _—mansion_ for merely three hours and he already felt as though he was being put into a Rear-Naked Choke while being pounded at the same time. Some the people who had attended took notice of him and Eugene when they stepped through the doorway. None of them asked for autographs, for which Jack was very much appreciative, but they all wanted to shake hands with them or pat them on the shoulder. They only had to endure one selfie along the way. Even those little things were already grating on his patience.

 _Remember, Jack. You're in Fighters' Utopia_. Said a voice inside his that sounded a lot like Elsa.

He scanned the crowd again, looking for a waiter and another drink.

Unlike the majority of the people in attendance who are dressed as if they were going for some big type of corporate business meeting just around the corner, he and Eugene simply wore their fitting Venum and Bad Boy T-shirts. Also known as the type of clothing that screamed _'fuck off, they're comfy_ '.

"Sir," the waiter said with a small smile as he exchanged Jack's empty glass for a full one.

"What's up?" Eugene asked after exchanging his own glass, noticing his gloomy face. "You've been looking bored and antsy as shit all night."

"Just want time to haul ass so I can get the hell out of here," he said before taking a sip of his drink. "This ain't my kind of thing."

"Eugene! Jack! I am so glad you could make it," Agdar Winterhaven said in a big, hearty social voice from behind. As he got nearer, Jack noticed the slightly disturbing smile on his face.

He frowned a little. _What's he up to_?

"So," he continued, "enjoying the party?"

"Yes, coach, it's quite lovely," Eugene replied and Jack could see his signature lopsided grin. "And I don't mean to be forward, but when do we get to meet your daughter?"

You had to hand it to him, Eugene Fitzherbert rocked his Nathan Drake bullshit. And Agdar shrugged it off with a sip of his own drink.

"In a few minutes," Agdar said. "And no, Eugene. She already has someone else."

"Well, that's bummer. I was hoping I could take some pictures with her so I can piss off Punzie," Jack didn't have to look at him to know that beneath his tone, his buddy was smirking.

"Anyway, speaking of daughter," Agdar said, pulling on that social smile again before turning his face towards him, "Jack, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

"Coach?" Well, shit. He didn't want to meet anyone.

"My older daughter. And don't worry, she's single and only twenty-five. A beautiful young woman. Well-spoken and smart, given that she's a journalist. And being my daughter, she knows her way around guys like you. Plus, you two have a lot in common."

Winterhaven should really try enhancing his matchmaking skills.

Because he really sucks at the game.

And Jack wished like hell he wasn't doing it now. He wasn't a goof. He knew what game his coach was playing. The man liked his story. A mixed martial artist, a decorated and well-versed fighter who saved his family from the streets and himself from a pathetic, troubled childhood by beating the living shit out of people inside the cage. The son-in-law ad pretty much wrote itself.

Except Jack was definitely NOT in the merchandise.

"I'm sorry, coach," Jack said. "But I won't be asking your daughter out. I didn't tell you this but I'm actually seeing someone."

It wasn't until he saw the smile on Agdar's face banished that Jack realised that he'd said no. His shoulders twitched again and before his coach could even open his mouth, a tall, bulky blonde stud with chocolate brown eyes and stood about six foot three appeared from behind him and cleared his throat.

 _Whoa._ Jack thought in mild astonishment as he looked at him. _So that's what happens if Brock Lesnar gets a long hair_.

"Excuse me. Um, Mr. Winterhaven," the blonde said a bit nervously. "Your daughter needs to speak with you."

"Kristoff, I told you to just call me Agdar. You're making me feel like an old man, already," Winterhaven said, arching his brow at Jack. "I'd like to finish this discussion a little later, Jack."

"I'm a cage fighter, not a goddamn Mr. Son In Law candidate," he muttered as soon as the man was out of earshot.

"Just play his game for this night, will you?" Eugene said and that earned he an annoyed look from Jack. "What? You meet his daughter, play nice, have a little chit-chat for a couple of minutes here and there, then as soon as you're done, you can skip out to hook up with that sexy blonde again."

Jack frowned.

"I might have seen you walking with a hot, gorgeous blonde a few nights ago," Eugene chortled. "Dude, don't try to deny it because you're not fooling anyone, let alone me. It's practically written on your face. I'm surprised you can drink that alcohol with the hook stuck so tight in your lip."

Like watching Daniel Cormier as he tried his best to get Anderson Silva pregnant at UFC 200, denial was pointless. He simply shrugged it off with, "Whatever."

His mind traveled back to Elsa. As soon as this party was done—whoever the hell his coach wanted him to meet—he was outta here. He wanted to see her so he can do _things_ to her like making tiny supernovas burst behind her eyes while he ravaged her sexy body.

But as hot as things were between them, he knew she wasn't going to be satisfied with just sex much longer.

"Well, now, what have we here?" Eugene murmured suddenly, his grin wicked.

Jack followed his gaze.

He recognised the woman first. All red hair tied in a messy bun, ocean blue eyes and ivory skin wearing a purple button-up, a fashionably white jacket and a pair of black jeans, he then noticed a silver ring which glinted as she waved a friendly greeting to everyone in attendance.

 _Anna?_

What was she doing here?

"Happy birthday, Anna!" A large group of people suddenly exclaimed.

Wait, what?

 _Happy birthday, Anna! Happy birthday, Anna! Happy birthday, Anna!_

Jack stared at his half-finished glass of liquor and frowned before something suddenly dawned on him and struck him so hard that he felt like he was on the receiving end of every Shuffle Shuffle H-Bomb that Dan fucking Henderson has dropped on his opponents.

Then he remembered what Agdar had told him back at Edmund's funeral.

 _My younger daughter, Anna, her birthday is in three weeks_.

His eyes widened in horror.

"No, no, no, no," he whispered to no one in particular. "How could I forget about it?"

 _Maybe because you were so busy mourning your best friend and being the provider of countless orgasms to a beautiful woman?_

Yep. That's probably the answer.

"You alright buddy? Who are you talking to?" Eugene asked, completely flabbergasted but Jack paid him no attention.

"It can't be."

 _I'd like you to meet my older one, her name's Elsa_.

 _Her name's Elsa._

 _Elsa_.

"Oh, Christ," he muttered.

"Seriously, Jack, are you alright?" Eugene asked again, his voice a bit louder than before.

Not giving a shit about what his buddy just said, Jack's gaze went back to Anna.

And out of nowhere, like a ghost haunting a home, there _she_ was, standing beside her sister.

Her silver hair was neatly done in a beautiful French braid which was draped over her left shoulder. In a simple white long sleeve and fitting navy blue pants, she still looked stunning. Still looked like a _goddess._ The shirt she chose to wear this particular evening was deceptively loose, but wrapped her in a way that drew his eyes to the sweet curve of her breasts, the slender indention of her waist.

Breasts he'd licked, sucked and tasted just hours ago. A waist he'd firmly gripped as he'd held that delicious body of hers over his, watching as she slid in a glorious rhythm, up and down his straining erection.

Elsa.

His sexy temptress-slash-siren-slash-seductress.

The hairs on the back of his neck that warned of trouble stood on end.

Elsa was Agdar's daughter? His coach's daughter?

 _Shit!_

Her eyes locked with his for a split second and Jack noticed how her blue orbs lit up as she smiled at him.

 _Shit! Stay over there! Stay over there! Don't come over!_

She muttered some sort of excuse to her sister before striding over towards his direction.

 _Hendo, please knock me the fuck out_.

"Hi, Jack!" Elsa greeted him with a warm smile as she reached him. "What brings you to my sister's birthday party?"

"Um, I'll leave you two for a moment," his brown haired companion awkwardly excused himself, giving the two of then some privacy.

"Well, I, uh...I was..uh... _invited_?" He stammered, eyes looking everywhere but her as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh," she said, frowning when she noticed the uncomfortable look on his face. "Are you okay, Jack? Because you're looking a little, I don't know, _nervous,"_ Elsa said, concern etching her voice.

'Nervous' is one hell of an understatement.

Before Jack could say something, they were interrupted.

"Jack," his coach greeted with the biggest smile Jack had ever seen on his face. Upon seeing his daughter, Agdar's gaze shifted back and forth between them.

The look on Elsa's face, however, was an entirely different story. She looked somewhat annoyed or irritated or something along those lines as she glanced at her father.

"The two of you have met already?" Agdar asked.

Jack looked at Elsa and waited for her answer, and after waiting for what seemed like ages, she finally told her father, "We said hello on the beach a few days ago."

Jack could hear the slight annoyance in her voice.

"And then wh-"

"And, nothing," she snapped.

He was starting to get the impression that this wasn't a loving father-daughter relationship.

Ignoring the way her daughter had snapped at him, Agdar gestured to his way and spoke. "This man right here is Jack Overland, a former MMA champion and one of my top protégés. I'd like you to spend some time getting to know each other."

And there it was—Jack sighed—the moment of revelation.

Jack watched the expressions chase across Elsa's face. Shock, then incredulity, quickly followed by cold anger. Then she shifted. Her jaw dropped, and she took a few steps backwards, the pained expression on her angelic face was almost too heart-wrenching to see.

After regaining some semblance of control over herself, Elsa spoke, "Forgive me when I say this but we've spent enough time getting to know one another already and found out we're completely incompatible. Now, if you'll excuse me...?"

"Elisabeth, will you please—" Agdar began, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by an unpleasant choice of words from her daughter.

"Go back to the gym, Dad," Elsa snapped at her father once again and Jack blinked at her harsh tone. "Like you did when Mom died."

With that, she walked out.

Jack had swum through the Arctic Ocean once and swore it had been warmer than the choice of her words and the tone of her voice.

Agdar's face fell and Jack could see the obvious pained expression on his face, "Excuse me," he said, voice shaking a bit before leaving the scene. Jack deemed it wise to stay where he was as he felt that neither of them would welcome his presence at this point.

After finishing his glass of liquor, Jack made his way across the large room and walked past several people who either wanted to have a little chat with him or his autograph without looking back.

They don't matter.

None of them did.

Right now, there was only one person who could clear a few things up for him.

"Excuse me," he said once he was behind the pretty redhead. "Anna, I need to speak with you."

Anna's eyes widened and lit up as she smiled at him before babbling nonsense, "Oh, hi Jack! I didn't realise you were here. Welcome to the Winterhaven household and it's my birthday today! But I don't remember inviting you, not that I don't want you here, of course, actually I'm glad that you're here, now where did Els-"

"Anna", he interrupted, not caring about the slightly rude tone of his voice. "I really need to speak with you. It's about Elsa."

"Okay, then," her expression changed from cheerful to serious, "What do you wanna talk about?"

"Why does she hate fighters?"

"Fighters?" The redhead asked, looking a bit confused.

He nearly growled, "Yes, fighters. Boxers, MMA guys, kickboxers, wrestlers, oh, and streetfighters. What's her beef with them?"

She smiled, "Are you a fighter or something?" And giggled. She actually thought he was joking with her.

"Yes! MMA guy. Your dad's actually my coach," he answered on a harsh whisper. "I'll ask you again, what's her issue with fighters?"

"Well, what do think? You said our father is your coach. You tell me." For the first time, Anna's cheerful demeanor shattered, showing a layer of bitter hurt. Jack had seen the same expression in Elsa the moment she found out he had been working with her father. The moment she found who and what really he was. Seemed like his coach wasn't interested in getting any 'Dad of the Year' awards.

"Look, I'm sorry about that. I just," Anna said softly after a long while, the cheerfulness in her voice gone. "I didn't know you were a fighter. To be honest, we thought you were more like an underwear model when Elsa and I first saw you."

"Does it matter that I'm a fighter?"

"Not to me."

"But it matters to your sister," Jack guessed. "Why didn't she tell me anything?"

"Well, it's not like you had a 'who I am, what you are' discussion there on the beach," then she gave Jack a searching look, raised a brow and asked, "Unless you had a little _something_ after the beach encounter?"

Apparently, denial or confirmation was not necessary, because his long, uncomfortable silence was what gave her the answer to her own question.

"Figured. No wonder my big sister has been looking dreamy all day. You two had something. It's probably why she didn't bother to bring Mr. Tadashi 'I Will Find The Greatest Pirate Treasure Of All Time' Hamada to the party."

That Mr. Kazushi 'Blah Blah Blah' Machida part caught his attention.

"What? Who?" Jack asked, frowning a little.

"Some journalist-archaeologist-treasure-hunter-kind-of-guy who's in a relationship with her," Anna said. "But according to my sexy sister, she doesn't know what they are."

"What's his relationship with Elsa? Is she involved?" He asked, unable to stop himself. "Is he someone she cares about?"

With a flat look, Anna answered his questions, "If she cared, he'd be here."

Anna gave him an apologetic look, as if she felt sorry for him. "I'm sorry," she said. "I really am. I think you'd be good for my sister."

"So why are you sorry?"

"Because she won't want to see you again."

"You don't know that." Even though it was pretty much exactly what she'd said. But Jack didn't accept it. And what he didn't accept, he changed.

"Look, you're a great guy," Anna explained. "I like you and Elsa deserves great, no doubt about that. But I know my sister better than anyone. She doesn't care even if you're the greatest fighter of all time like Muhammad Sugar Ray Chuck Norris, or that hot, tattooed Irish guy Brad Pitt played in _Snatch,_ she'll never date a fighter." She hesitated, as if she was worried about his reaction. Then she laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. By the way, have you seen her?"

"I don't know," he told her. "I think she already left after she and your dad had a little verbal warfare."

"Guess I can't blame her," Anna said, her voice barely audible.

With that, the younger woman walked away.

"Hey, Anna," he called after her when she was barely five feet away from him.

"Yeah?"

"Happy birthday," he said, offering her the biggest smile he could that night.

"Thanks," she gave him a smile of her own before she disappeared into a small crowd.

Leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Up until three weeks ago, he'd loved what he did for a living. He'd trained for it, embraced it, lived for it.

But in the past couple of weeks, that same profession he loved had taken two things that he hadn't wanted to give up.

His best friend.

And the most captivating woman he'd ever met.

He knew he couldn't do much about Edmund now that he's gone. But he could about Elsa.

And he'll be damned if he let her go without as much as a small talk.

* * *

He knocked for the fifty-seventh time before the mahogany doors of her hotel room violently swung open.

If looks could kill, Jack was pretty sure he'd be an ice sculpture right now.

Elsa's glare was _deadly._

So Jack considered himself lucky enough to take a quick scrutiny of her sexy body.

Her hair, gorgeous and sexy and neatly done in a French braid just hours ago, was brushed out in a messy frizz so it haloed her face like a raging silver cloud.

The pale skin of her face was washed clean, all that was left was the sparkling of tiny freckles across her adorable nose and smudged remnants of mascara under her cold furious eyes.

Her nightshirt hugged her so well in the right places. Smooth cotton shorts drooped to her knees.

Her nails were as red as the blood he'd shed countless times inside the octagon.

Her legs smooth and velvetlike looking.

Her pale skin flushed with anger, she was just as sexy now as she'd been during their lovemaking sessions.

"We need to talk," he said. "I'm sorry."

She automatically stepped back, scowled, then stood her ground again. Damn, even when she was mad, she still looked sexy.

"I don't have to forgive you and you don't have to apologise to me, Jack, since the opportunity to talk has passed. Now if you don't mind, it's way past my bedtime."

He's a fighter for fuck's sake. Did she really think he'd go down without a fight?

She made a move to close the door but Jack, as quick as TRT Vitor Belfort, reached out and gently grabbed her in the arm.

"Don't touch me!" She practically yelled at him as she roughly pulled her arm away.

"Look, I," he began awkwardly, "I wanted to tell you, but ho-"

"You know what, enough!" She unmercifully snapped at him, using the same tone she'd used on her father.

"No, I wanted to, but how could I?"

She threw her hands up in exasperation, "I don't know, just say it?"

He scoffed before saying, "I don't wanna hurt you."

His answer only intensified her rage, because she replied with, "That is bullshit, Jack! You just didn't have the nerve to tell me."

"I knew you would react like this," he defended.

Elsa stared at him in disbelief, angry tears beginning to dwell in her eyes, before taking a step back, "How would you react!? You lied to me! For days!"

"I didn't lie to you," he denied, his own anger starting to build up.

"No, perhaps you didn't," she agreed before adding. "But you didn't tell me the truth, either. As a matter of fact, you never did tell me anything. You deliberately hid your job, your lifestyle and the fact that you worked with and trained under my father, the man that I hate the most. And since I had already made my feelings clear about being involved with men who can only see violence as a method of solving every problem they have, I can only assume that choice was made with the intention of hiding your career from me. And you hid everything from me just so you could get into my pants."

Her last sentence was what did it.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy every single moment we made love," he countered, "And sure as hell don't act like I was the only one who hid things!" He yelled, mentally kicking himself for raising his voice. "Tell me, Elsa, how was I supposed to know that you're Agdar's daughter? You didn't share your last name with me, you didn't tell me you're a journalist, hell, you didn't even tell me about _your guy_ before you let me touch you!"

Elsa opened her mouth a few times but no words came out. She was stunned. She looked at him with absolute contempt, eyes filled with rage, heartache, cold indifference, and, if Jack was reading the signs correctly, _guilt._

"If I'd only know who you are, I never would have looked at your direction that day on the beach," she said after a long while. "It's been a lovely experience meeting you, Jack," she sniffed before adding. "Maybe you can try your little trick moves on other stupid, naïve women."

She didn't wait for his response before stepping back and shutting the door shut right in his face with a firm, resounding slam.

* * *

 **AN: Stipe Miocic was the one who ended the** ** _Cleveland Sports Curse_** **, not the Cavaliers.** **Just sayin'.**

 **The chapter's title** **is borrowed from the Mexican _telenovela_ of the same name.**

 **Jack and Elsa's argument is based (sort of) on Nate and Elena's argument scene in _Uncharted 4: A Thief's End_. Also known as the the video game cutscene that broke my heart. If you want to watch the clip in question, it's on YouTube. Just type 'Elena gets pissed at Drake' and it should pop up.**

 **Again, I'm sorry for the late update. I'm such a giant asshole. The truth is I had to deal with family issues. In my profile, I mentioned that I had to deal with drunkards almost on a daily basis. Well, apparently my FATHER and UNCLE were among them. Probably still are. I was just so angry in the past several days that my anger stole my muse and forced to put this one on hold. But, hey, if it makes you feel better, feel free to chastise me. Seriously, I don't mind. I actually prefer it when my readers are being honest and frank.**

 **Also, I need to clear something up because I feel like I've offended a number Brits both inside and outside of FFN. My hate or strong dislike for British UFC fighter and current middleweight champion Michael Bisping has nothing to do with him being British. If I told you I hate Rory MacDonald, which I don't by the way, does that automatically brand me as someone who hates Canada and the Canadian people? I dislike Bisping simply because of his classless personality and the unsportsmanlike conduct he displays both in and out of the octagon. Hell, even if I was a Brit myself, I'd still hate the shit out of that cunt.**

 **So that's that.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **PS: Just in case your fangirl ovaries ask for the name of the guy on the cover photo, it's Luke Rockhold.**


	9. Alcohol For Breakfast

**Chapter 9. _Alcohol For Breakfast_**

The last fucking thing Elsa wanted to do after crying herself to sleep the night before was to face her father. She just wanted to stay in bed with a bowl of vanilla ice cream and with the covers pulled over her head.

But after walking out on Anna's birthday party last night, Elsa knew right away that she needed to apologise to her sister. So with a heavy heart, she got up from the bed, took a long, hot shower and, after a quick change of clothes, went to the Winterhaven household.

And after a ten-minute walk from Oaken's, Elsa found herself standing in front of the door of their family home, she pressed one hand to her head, said a little prayer and knocked.

A few seconds later, the handle jiggled before the door swung open to reveal the familiar fiery hair, ocean blue eyes and the pinkish-ivory skin of Anna Winterhaven.

Elsa's eyes lit up almost immediately upon seeing her sister.

"Good morning, sis," she greeted as she walked in, offering her sister an apologetic smile before pulling her into a tight hug. Then, with her fingers only shaking a little, she looked at her father, who was sitting down on the low couch, reading a newspaper, and quietly said, "Dad."

"Hi, Elsa," her sister returned her greetings before giving her a quick kiss on her cheek. "Good morning."

"What's good about the morning, Anna?" Agdar derided, snapping his newspaper shut and slapping it onto the table before giving Elsa an angry, dark look. "I had higher expectations of you moving back here, Elisabeth."

For a second, Elsa's heart swelled. He'd wanted her back? He'd been waiting for her return?

"And this is how you behave now you're here? By acting like an insolent child, insulting me and mentioning your mother in front of the man I wanted you to go out with."

That last hopeful spark in her heart was quickly extinguished replaced with the same cold anger she felt last night.

 _He wanted you back because he was trying to set you up with Mr. Hot-Sexy-Gorg-...with Jack._

"Dad, I already told you last night," she tried again, calling on patience. "I'm not interested in dating Jack Overland. Not last night, not next week. Not ever."

"That's ridiculous," her father stated. "He's a fine young man. A great career ahead of him. You're just being stubborn out of habit."

Ridiculous? Stubborn out of habit? She wanted to laugh and say that no, she's neither of those things. That she's trying to be clear. That she's not interested in a relationship right now.

Well at least, not anymore. She pressed her lips together to keep them from shaking and fisted the crisp dark green fabric of her skirt between her fingers to keep from them punching the wall, or her father's face. A few days ago, she'd been wide open to the idea.

"Are you listening to me, Elisabeth?"

He never called her by the name that everybody calls her. Maybe he didn't know it. To him, she'd always been 'Elisabeth' and never 'Elsa'. The only ones who call her 'Elisabeth' are people she considered strangers.

And Elsa _hated_ that name.

With passion.

 _Well, what do you expect, young lady?_ said an angry voice inside her head. _All your life, he'd been a stranger. Always was and still is._

She was about to say something when she heard Anna clear her throat and said, "Dad, could you please give us a couple of minutes? I really need to talk to Elsa."

"No, Anna," Agdar growled, voice colder than the waters of the Arctic Ocean. "Not until I knock some sense into your sist-"

"Dad!" Anna suddenly yelled and Elsa's jaw dropped slightly upon hearing her sister. As far as she could remember, her sister never raised her voice at anyone. Like ever. So witnessing her sister yell at someone, _their father_ to be precise, is quite an amusing sight.

And even though she was surprised, Elsa couldn't help but slightly smirk at her father upon seeing the gobsmacked, stupefied look on his face.

"Please, Dad," Anna said calmly, and Elsa could hear the apologetic tone in her voice. "I simply need a few minutes with Elsa, alone."

For a second, their father looked as if Anna had pulled a gun on him. Then he gave a gruff nod, "Whatever you say," Agdar relented, face reddening with embarrassed shame, before grabbing the newspaper on the table.

"Holy shit," Elsa said, almost whispering. "How'd you do that?"

"I wish I could tell you," Anna answered, shaking her head before glancing up at her. "Come on."

"What? Where?" Elsa frowned.

"Honey Lemon's. You and I are gonna have a serious sister talk," Anna said with a flat look as she practically dragged Elsa out of their house.

* * *

 _"Just another day, the shame is gone. It's hard to believe that I've let it go away,"_ belted Honey Lemon after slipping some quarters into the jukebox inside her bar, and now she was banging her head up and down as if she was some sort of a heavy metal singer. _"It's just a melody that bleeds in me. Hard to believe that I've let it go. When you're taught through feelings…"_

"Someone should really get this on film," Anna said with a laugh, slugging down her second glass of red wine. "I mean, it's only eight in the morning and she's already drunk as hell."

"You got that right," Elsa agreed, grinning. "I bet it'd go viral."

After a series of loose chuckles, quiet fell between the two sisters, and Elsa had a feeling they were both thinking of the night before and what had gone wrong. She could practically see the uneasiness on her own face. Guilt and anger twisted inside her and she bit her lower lip so hard to the point that it almost bled.

"Anna, listen, um...about last night," Elsa began awkwardly. "I'm so sorry I walked out on your party."

"Sis, it's okay," Anna said, taking her hand in hers and squeezed, an understanding smile forming on her lips.

"Still, it was awful of me to just walk out like that after I made a promise that I would be there."

"It's alright, I understand."

She smiled. "Thank you," She hoped Anna knew how much she meant by that.

"I just can't believe that after two years, he hasn't changed one bit, he's still the same asshole who thinks he can boss me and everyone around," Elsa let out a bitter chuckle, taking a sip of her whiskey. She looked at Anna. "And here I am, thinking that things would be different now that I'm back. How stupid is that?"

"You aren't stupid. Most people have decent relationships with their fathers. You just seemed to forget that yours is not human," Anna stated, crossing her arms. "Besides, it's not just Agdar that has you all tweaked out. And to prove it, I'll continue my brilliant assessment."

"What are you talking about?" Elsa frowned.

"You're upset about the stud from the beach, am I wrong?" Anna said matter-of-factly with a smile and it quickly banished upon seeing the fallen look on Elsa's face. "Look, I just think you really should take your chances with him."

Elsa winced. "How did I miss the signs? Why couldn't he just tell me that he is a fighter? And more importantly, why would you even suggest that?"

"Look, Els, I know you have some issues with Dad. I get that. Hell, I do have some issues with him too. And I know he pissed you off with his stupid matchmaking game. But what does it matter? You and Jack were great together, or at least I think. You're not going to toss that away over Agdar, are you?"

"How did you even know about me and Jack?"

"He told me last night," the redhead shrugged. "Actually, he didn't have to tell me. The look on his face when he asked me about you told me everything."

"I should have known he'd ask you," Elsa sighed, shaking her head. "God, I should have known. What did you tell him?"

"I told him what I know. And by 'what I know', I mean everything."

Elsa drained her glass of whiskey and signaled the bartender for another round.

"By the way, why wasn't Mr. 'I Will Find The Lost City Of El Dorado' with you last night?"

Guilt, sharp and cutting, sliced through her like butter. Elsa knew she had no reason to feel bad. There was no commitment between her and Tadashi, either genuine or implicit. It was stupid to feel guilty. But still...

"He's in Colombia," she muttered, burying her face in her hands. "What am I going to tell him?" she groaned. "Christ, I'm so fucked."

"Just tell him the truth," Anna said with shrug, as if it wasn't such a big deal.

"Tell him... _what?_ " Elsa said, eyes widening. "That I've spent the previous couple of days playing house naked with quite possibly the sexiest man alive, while he's on the other side of the world digging up for dead people's junk? Not to mention, I lost my virginity to said sexiest man alive, who also happened to be someone who takes his shirt off on live television and beats the living hell out of people for... _other_ people's entertainment. Are you kidding me?! That would break his-"

"Elsa!" Anna interrupted. "The way I see it, you two aren't something. You're not in a relationship with him.

"But I-"

"What? Feel like you cheated on him? Bullshit!" the redhead scoffed. "He's the one who insisted you two are in a relationship. Trust me, sis, tell him the truth. If he is half the man I think he is, then I think he can handle it pretty well."

For just a brief moment the Elsa felt her words leave her, stranding her momentarily in stunned silence. When had Anna become so strong and confident? While they were growing up, Elsa often found Anna to be the most annoying person in the world, but sometimes, she caught a glimpse of a deep-rooted wisdom dwelling in her sister's soul. She could say the most profound things and it would hit Elsa like a Stone Cold Stunner.

 _She's right, you know,_ she told herself. _You have no reason to feel bad._

"When did you get so smart?" Elsa asked.

"I'm always smart. What, did you forget I'm a teacher?" answered Anna, smiling proudly, then with an almost pleading voice, she said. "Give it a chance, Elsa. At least talk to him. To Jack, I mean. Not to your so called boyfriend."

"Is he paying you?" she asked suspiciously, giving her sister a narrow look. "Look, Anna, can we please just drop this? I appreciate the gesture, but...I don't know, I'm just so tired from last night. "

"I just…" Anna glanced at her empty glass, then bit her lower lip and gave her a sad, almost tearful smile. "I just want to see you happy."

Elsa's heart swelled upon hearing her sister's words, a new wave of guilt crashed through her. She opened her mouth several times but no words came out, she choked down a sob as tears began to swarm her eyes. "But I am happy," she spoke softly, thankful that her voice didn't crack at every word. "I love my job, I have you and Kristoff and you two are happy together, and if you're happy, then so am I. That's all I need right now."

"But you were happy with Jack," Anna whispered, and Elsa could hear her sniffing a little bit.

"Only for a few days."

Her sister smiled, took her hand again and squeezed. "The point is _you were happy_. You had fun with him, did you not?"

"Do hours and hours of marvelous sex count as fun?"

"They do in my book."

"Then sure. We had fun. But that's all it was. Fun."

"Well then," Anna said, sounding a bit defeated. "At least tell me what you were hoping from him."

Honesty.

Openness.

Hundreds of mind-blowing orgasms.

A chance to see if they can build a relationship.

"Nothing," she responded flatly, judging by the look on Anna's face, she's not buying it. She'd never been a good liar.

"And what will it take to get you to talk to him again?"

Elsa sighed. "For him to change careers. To get amnesia and forget he worked with Agdar."

"Nah-ah, that's not happening anytime soon. He's an MMA fighter, he's totally dedicated," Anna said reasonably. "This morning I browsed the net and checked his Wikipedia page, and from what I saw, he's been in the sport for ten years, since he was eighteen. And he has pretty nice win-loss record too. Twenty-two wins with only a single loss. Pretty impressive, don't you think?"

Elsa rolled her eyes, though she was smiling. "I'm not impressed by his performance. And I never will be."

Her sister giggled. "I actually watched some of his highlights."

"Whoa, wait a second!" Elsa exclaimed, giving her sister a surprised look. "What do you mean you watched some of his highlights? Anna!"

"Oh my God. Stop acting like you caught me watching porno or something," Anna defended, grinning at her. "Like I said, I watched some of his stuff. As in, you know, the way he fights."

"Really?" her eyes widened in curiosity. "What was he like?"

"He's good."

"That's it? Just good?"

"For a woman who wants nothing from a certain white-haired fighter, you're awfully interested about his fighting career," Anna said, giving her an all-knowing mischievous look, making her blush.

"Oh, I hate you," Elsa muttered.

"If you're that interested, then, like I said, you should probably give Mr. Hunky Fighter a chance."

Elsa's gaze dropped, refusing to look at Anna. She knew she'd already fallen half in love with a man just based on their physical connection. If she gave him a chance—gave them a chance—the rest of would be as easy as breathing.

But she couldn't—wouldn't—let herself fall in love with a man she couldn't communicate with. One who probably cares more about his risky profession than knowing how to be a boyfriend, a husband, a father.

 _Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop!_ she scolded herself inwardly _. Dating is fine. But marriage? Kids? You're getting way ahead of yourself there, Winterhaven. Stop thinking about him so much. He's not going to be the things you want him to be for a long, long time, if ever. You should know better than to think of yourself as one of those lousy rom-com characters._

"I can't," she decided quietly, wishing it didn't hurt so much.

"Why not?" asked Anna.

Elsa sighed. "Because fighters are out of my league," she said, still not meeting her sister's gaze. She and Jack had known each other for less than a week. She shouldn't feel as if someone was tearing a part of her heart in two. "Besides, my prejudices would ruin the relationship in the end anyway."

* * *

 **AN: Look! A new chapter! Three late updates in a row? Fuck me, I guess. Haha.**

 **Credit where credit is due: The song Honey Lemon was singing was 'Swamped' by Lacuna Coil. I strongly recommend that you give that song a listen.**

 **I can't believe the chapters hit double digits after this one. Thank you so much, my lovely readers. I couldn't have done it without you.**

 **At this point, I'm not even going to apologise for the late updates. LOL.**

 **Also, it's worth noting that the MMA-ness of this story will begin to really show its true colors soon. Consider this your warning if that's not your thing.**

 **Thanks for reading!  
**


	10. Dear Agony

**Chapter 10.** _ **Dear Agony**_

-Three months later-

"Jesus Christ, dude," Eugene quipped. "Would it kill you to look in a fucking mirror? Look at yourself. You're a mess."

"Well, I'm sorry I can't bring myself to be charming at a time like this. And I'm sorry if I'm not living up to your entertainment standards," Jack fired back, not bothering to look at his buddy as he worked on snaking a pair of handwraps around his hands. The rest of the team decided to end the day with a couple of beers. Jack, however, had turned down their invite to join in, wanting to train his ass for the remainder of the night.

"You're acting like an druken emo guy who got hit by five Hop Hop Elbows of Death by Dan Henderson."

 _I feel like he gave me ten Shuffle Shuffle H-Bombs, actually._

"Okay, first of all, _Flynn Rider_ , eat a bag of thirty-seven dicks and DX suck them so hard because you're wrong," Jack said with a flat look. "Secondly, what I'm doing right now is called 'training'. As in preparing for a fight. Or have you forgotten that that's what everyone in this gym is supposed to do?"

Eugene's sigh was remarkable. Loud, drawn out and filled with enough exasperation to fuel an obnoxious teenager for a week.

Jack almost smiled as he walked towards a nearby punching bag and gave the poor thing a Bas Rutten Special.

Not that he was mooning or acting like an emo. That'd be stupid. And Jack didn't waste his time with stupid.

"Being the fucking HBK with me now, aren't you? You're not training, _Frosty_. For the past three months all you did was take your anger out on that thing," Eugene said, gesturing to the punching bag which was swinging like a broken pendulum. "Tell you what, just get over her."

"The fuck are you talking about?" he gave Eugene a dark look as he delivered a hard left cross to the bag.

The silence was magnificent.

If only it'd last.

"It's been months," Eugene stated. "You're so hung up that you barely do anything anymore other than work your ass off. That's your life. You're a cliché, man. And it's all because of her."

Jack winced.

Sad, but true.

Anna had been right. Three months since she had officially shut the door on his face, Elsa hadn't talked to him again. Jack had called. He'd gone by her place. He'd done everything but tattle on her daddy.

Finally, he'd given up.

He wasn't going to waste his time on a woman who couldn't get past her daddy issues.

"Gene, will you please just leave me the fuck alone?" he snapped. "I'm trying to focus here."

There. He'd defended himself against all of Eugene's accusations. He continued to make the punching bag swing back and forth

"You're angry Jack, I get it. You thought having se— _making new friends_ was going to relieve you the pressure. But-"

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Jack growled, sick of thinking about Elsa and totally pissed that Eugene wouldn't let it go.

His buddy smirked. "'Dear Charo, I've fallen for the girl I can't have and now can't get over her. How do I heal my broken heart?'"

It would have been funny if it wasn't _way_ too close to the truth.

"Fuck off," he growled. "And what hell is that 'Dear Charo' bullshit?"

"It's some Filipino soap that Edmund and Thiana used to watched," Eugene's grin disappeared as the words cleared his mouth.

They hadn't mentioned Edmund in quite a while.

Jack mindlessly gave the floor his full attention. They were trained for this. Anything can happen inside a cage. They went into the octagon knowing it wasn't just a possibility, but a probability, that one of them would be fighting their last fight. So what was with the emotional drama? When did it get easier?

He regained his stance and threw another kick to the bag.

"Anyway, since I figured that you won't leave me alone. At least talk to me about something else."

"Alright. What do you want to know?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Um...dream match that never happened?"

"Really?" Eugene asked incredulously. "That's what you want to know?"

"Who gives a shit? Just tell me," Jack defended, giving the heavy bag a spinning wheel kick.

"Fair enough. Boxing, MMA or Pro Wrestling?"

"Seriously, Pro Wrestling?" Jack said as he rolled his eyes.

"You said 'dream match', not 'dream fight'. So Pro Wrestling counts," Eugene countered, smirking. "And don't act like you hate wrestling, buddy. Some five or six years ago, you were CM Punk's biggest fan. Matter of fact, you still are, just look at your shirt."

He took a quick glance in the mirror to see that yes, he was wearing a 'Best In The World' t-shirt.

"Fine. MMA."

"Okay, I got Kazushi Sakuraba versus Bas Rutten."

Jack grinned, "The guy who made the Gracies look like a bunch of backyard white belts against the guy who terrorised Japan worse than Godzilla?"

"I know, right," Eugene chuckled. "How about you?"

"Well, let's see...um, Lyoto Machida versus Wanderlei Silva. At 185."

"I got Machida in that one, he's just too fast, especially at middleweight"

"You never know. I mean Shogun beat him. _Twice_. And Shogun and Wanderlei share the same fighting style. You know, _Chute Boxe_ ," Jack said as he launched a right hook.

"Hey, Jack," Agdar called from the other side of the gym.

Fist halfway to the punching bag, he stopped, narrowed his eyes and turned towards his coach's direction. "Yes, coach?"

The head coach of Royalty MMA took one look at the both of them, and his mouth formed into a hard line.

"I need to speak you. Alone," and he walked off, his flip flops echoing in the empty hallway. Eugene's mouth formed into an 'O' as he smiled and shook his head at Jack.

"You're in trouble," he said in a singsong voice. Jack gave him a dark look, discarded the handwraps and walked away towards the opposite direction.

* * *

"So what's this about, coach?"

"Dana White just called."

"Oh, Big Bald Fuck called, huh?," Jack said sarcastically. "What did he say?"

"He's offering you a shot at the welterweight belt."

Jack frowned. All it took was two seconds, a slight furrow of the brow and a shift of his shoulders to know that he was _not_ the number one contender for the title.

"Wait a sec, isn't Haddock supposed to fight for the title?"

"And I will tell you why that he won't be fighting anymore," his coach said. "He's injured. Broke his leg after his traning partner put him in a Heel Hook."

"What, is Rousimar 'The Injury Bug' Palhares one of his training partners?" he joked.

"I couldn't care less," Agdar shrugged, not in the mood for any jest. "The point is the UFC is giving you another shot at the title and if you decline, they'll cancel the event. So, what do you say about fighting Hans again?"

Hans.

That name just sends waves of anger in his stomach. Just the mere mention of it makes Jack want to punch someone in the face. Reason? Well, once upon a fucking time, Jack Overland fought Hans Westergaard in a welterweight title unification bout where Hans unified both titles via a very controversial unanimous decision. Jack gave the motherfucker the toughest fight of his life as he repeatedly tagged him with body kicks and counter shots while also defended all of his takedowns and escaped his submission attempts. Hans attempted to steal the fight by throwing a barrage of missed haymakers by the end of each round which may have swayed the judges. By the end of the fight, Jack's face looked as pristine as he was born, while the champion looked as if he was auditioning for a role in _The Mask_ and _Hellraiser_. But the judges disregarded the damage Jack had inflicted and awarded Hans the decision victory.

The result shocked Jack and his team, as well as the audience with some even calling it the 'Robbery of the Year'.

The champion has not lost a fight since then and is currently on a 7-fight winning streak.

A streak that he'd happily put an end to.

He looked at his coach, "What's the venue?"

"Vegas. Six weeks. You up for it?"

"You already know the answer, coach," a grinned formed on his lips, determination was the only thing in his mind. "I'll eat that motherfucker alive."

"Yeah, I know you will," Agdar said as he gave him a smile, and it quickly banished when he added. "Jack, I...I need to speak with you about Elsa."

A new type of anger fisted tight in his gut upon hearing that name, the same as it always did at the memory of that night.

As he had so many times in the past, he reminded himself that it was dumb to get worked up over a woman he'd only known for a couple of days. The only reason Elsa was still intriguing was because he hadn't got to spend enough time with her for the shine to wear off. Great sex, a body that haunted his dreams and a personality that had almost convinced him there was such a thing as relationships outside of bed…

Nothing to obsess over.

He'd slept with plenty of women in the past few months, hoping that it could wipe away the memory of that wild encounter.

"What about her?" he asked, giving the floor his full attention.

"You and my daughter have…"

 _Oh, shit._

Have what? Had inappropriate relations? Had a hundred or so mutual orgasms? Had enough emotional intensity between them to fuel a Mexican telenovela?

"You have a lot in common."

 _Phew!_ he thought.

"You're both intense, focused individuals with strong ethics and career goals," his said, a hint of hesitation in his tone. Yep, the man really knew what people were looking for in each other at this day and age.

"Coach, are you trying to set me up with Elsa?"

' _After she shut me out?_ ' is the other unspoken question, but he didn't really know how to bring that up and what would he say about it, anyways?

"Let's just say I'd be stoked with the idea of you and my daughter building a relationship together."

"I'm sorry, coach. But I already told you, I'm not interested in a relationship. Besides," Jack couldn't resist adding, "I have a dangerous career. The chances of me being hurt or worse, killed," the images of Edmund's last fight entered his mind once again and he fisted his hands at the bitter memory. "Aren't insignificant. That's a lot to ask someone to live with."

Agdar waved his concern away which didn't surprise Jack. But his next words nearly did. "Her career is just as dangerous as yours, if not, even more so. Five years ago she nearly got herself killed while climbing a mountain in Siberia. She's not going to worry about how safe your job is."

"I'd worry. You know as well as I do that being a fighter requires absolute focus. How can you give it that focus if part of you…" Jack winced, before continuing. "How do you do your job, how do you fight if your thoughts are back home, worrying about the people who are worrying about you?"

Deciding to end the conversation he added. "I appreciate you considering me suitable for your daughter," he said, doing a careful verbal tap dance. "But, again, my career is my priority right now. I don't feel there's room for a relationship."

Clearly, that wasn't what Winterhaven wanted to hear. Face closed tight, his coach fished out his phone from his pocket. "I've still got to make the call. I'll tell White that you're up for the match. We'll continue this discussion some time, Jack. You may leave now."

"I think we've finished it already, coach."

He didn't wait for a response. There was no point.

* * *

 **AN: Heel Hooks. I fucking hate them.**

 **In MMA language, 'Bas Rutten Special' means kick to the midsection.**

 **'Hop Hop Elbow Of Death' is the name the fans had given to Dan Henderson's awesome knock out finish of Hector Lombard at UFC 199.**

 **'185' means the middleweight division.**

 **If you watch Rousimar Palhares' fights, you'll know why Jack called him 'The Injury Bug'.**

 **I don't normally reply to guest reviews but for the 'Guest' who asked me what I feel about the Diaz/McGregor rematch, I can make an exception.**

 **Here's my reply: It's not just the fight that was pandemonium. It was the entire event, UFC 202. Every fight leading up to Diaz/McGregor 2 ended in spectacular fashion, with Donald Cerrone showing us yet another impressive performance with that Tekken combo on Rick Story. The guy's had three fights in this year alone and all of them ended with him finishing it, seriously Cowboy, how do you do it? Then there's Anthony Johnson's shocking 13 second knockout of Glover Teixeira, which will undoubtedly get a nomination for KO of the Year (though I still think Hendo's KO of Lombard is this year's best knockout). By the time Diaz/McGregor was on, the of roof my house was literally about to go off. And BOOM! Just like that. We have a Fight of the Year candidate. And here I am thinking that nothing could top Lawler/Condit. The decision could have gone either way, though I kinda wish Nate won.**

 **Diaz/McGregor 3 anyone? How about DC/Rumble 2?**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading, everyone. See you soon for the next chapter.**

 **PS: All due respect to both Nate and Conor, but Rory motherfucking MacDonald would make those two look like a couple of bums. Big time. Since he already did a number on Diaz, I would like to see him fight McGregor at 170.**

 **But it will probably never happen since Dana 'The Mole Rat' White cut him from the UFC.**

 **That said, fuck you Dana White and fuck your stupid Reebok deal.**


	11. Ice, Fire, Hatred And Sorrow

**Chapter 11.** ** _Ice, Fire, Hatred And Sorrow_**

The drive from Oaken's to Honey Lemon's wasn't anything new. Sure she hadn't been there for weeks, but it didn't feel too strange, either. She left, did some paperwork in Brisbane and when she had nothing else to do once her work was finished, she came back to Arendelle City.

She really didn't know why she came back.

Now all she had to do was get out of her car, walk across the street, and go for the front doors.

The thought made Elsa's stomach lurch.

Perhaps it was because the place which used to be her safe haven, reminded her so much of him. After all, this is the place where she first felt his touch.

Jackson Overland.

Elsa wants to pretend that he did not exist and is still trying to forget the way he worshipped her body.

She wants to forget him, the way WWE desperately wants to forget that dude whose name perfectly rhymed with 'Krispen Wah'.

And she did a pretty good job too. For three and a half months, she had successfully erased Jack from her memory. But she had a feeling that fate had something up its sleeve and was only toying with her, letting her get away with it to plan for something worse.

The only place where she couldn't escape him was in her dreams. And that was where he tormented her the most. Jack was at his cruelest in her dreams; playing with her, teasing her and touching her relentlessly and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Elsa had lost count on how many times she had to force herself awake. She tried to keep several glasses of water by her bed to pour over her head. But all that did was make her dream about Jack invading her shower time.

 _Angels have faith  
_ _I don't wanna be a part of his sin  
_ _I don't wanna get lost in his world  
_ _I'm not playing this game_

The loud volume of the symphonic metal song that was blaring from inside Honey Lemon's bar brought her back to reality, and for some reason, its lyrics actually gave her the strength to push the door of her car open.

She stepped out and headed straight for the front door and Elsa smiled as she was greeted by the welcoming noise and the familiar bright lights that the place offered. She then took the booth near the window and signaled a waiter for a glass of red wine.

 _From the ashes of hate  
_ _It's a cruel demon's fate  
_ _On the wings of darkness  
_ _He's returned to stay  
_ _There will be no escape  
_ _'Cause he's fallen far from grace_

As the song finished its chorus and approached its bridge, the waiter returned with her drink and a slight smile formed on her face when the wind coming from the wall fan took strands of her platinum blonde hair along its path and made them dance.

"Hey," a voice said suddenly and damn it, of all the people in the world, why did _he_ have to be the one to disturb her?

"Hey yourself," she huffed rudely.

Agdar Winterhaven ignored her rude tone and proceeded to take the empty seat in front of her.

"You know, I wasn't really expecting you to return early," Agdar said cautiously with a warm smile. "May I ask what made you come back? Was it the beach?"

As soon as her father said the words, Elsa felt a rampaging storm in her heart.

"You really want me out of here as soon as possible, don't you?" she let out a bitter smile and took a sip of her wine. "If that's what you want, then..."

"What? No, that's ridiculous," her father chuckled nervously and put a gentle hand on her shoulder when he thought she was going to move. The contact almost made Elsa slap his hand away. "There's not much Tomb Raider-ish going on over there in Australia? Is that why you came back?"

"That is none of your business," Elsa said coldly and regarded him with a dark and narrow look. "Why are you here, dad? And why are you acting so nice to me?"

"Well, I thought that..." Agdar began, "you know, maybe we could break bread."

She raised one eyebrow.

"It's just... " he continued. "One of my guys received a title shot."

Elsa rolled her eyes and chuckled bitterly as she shifted her gaze to the glass of red wine she was holding. The _nerve_ of this man to tell her something like that.

"Look, if you want to celebrate that stupid title shot, do it with those... _animals_ ," she said irritably. "God, just 'cause you decided it's a special day for you, it doesn't make one for me."

"Come on, Elisabe-"

"Stop calling me 'Elisabeth'," she snapped.

"Right." her father nodded apologetically. "Look Elsa, I'm really trying here."

"You're trying?" she asked with a sarcastic smile.

"Yeah, really, I'm trying," her father answered confidently.

"Now?"

Silence.

"Where were you when it mattered," Elsa asked but it was more of a statement than a question. "And where were you when Mom spent her last moments coughing up blood on her knees while calling out your name?" she added and she felt a knife drove unmercifully through her heart as she let the question out. Tears burned behind her lids but she dared not allow them to fall and tried to mask her pain with boiling anger. She then pointed her finger at Agdar's chest. "Anna and I needed this guy back when we were kids, we don't need you now."

Silence.

"You don't seem to understand that," she said. "Let me explain something to you, okay? With everything that's already happened, you going through the 'compassionate father routine' now will never bring back the past twenty years. It's too late now, so spare me."

"Come on, Elsa," Agdar said and she notice the way his voice broke, but she was too angry to care. "Have a heart. I came here because I was hoping we could open some lines of... of communication."

"Listen to me, you take your 'have a heart' bullshit and run it down the goddamn road," Elsa muttered through gritted teeth, voice dripping with venom.

"Watch your langu-"

"Better yet, run it down with someone who doesn't know you like I do," she said with finality. "Now leave me alone and get out of here."

"Elsa," Agdar took a deep breath. "Listen I-"

"I said get the fuck out of here!" Elsa yelled, oblivious to how the locals were gaping at her, and with one hand holding the glass of red wine, she splashed its contents right to his face. Her action left Agdar (and everyone else inside the bar) stunned for a moment. Hell, she even surprised herself, sure she hated her father but never once had she dreamed of doing something like that in public, much less actually done so. She tried to mask her shock with her anger.

Her father wiped the liquid off his face, his face fell as he gave her a small nod and mumbled a little apology, before he stood up from the chair and slowly headed towards the exit, Elsa didn't take her cold eyes off him until she saw him disappear behind the door.

" _Dios mío, Elsa_. Don't you think that was a little harsh?" came the familiar voice and thick Latin American accent of Honey Lemon after a long uncomfortable silence, Elsa ignored her words and with a shaky hand, she put the glass on the table and suddenly found the window to be very interesting.

* * *

Later that night, the sounds of spoon and fork hitting the expensive china resounded through the eerily quiet vastness of the Winterhaven mansion's dining room. The aroma and succulence of the dishes before them was tantalising, but failed to ignite any sort of positive talk between the Winterhaven sisters.

"I can't believe you did that," Anna said as she shook her head and gave her older sister a look of disappointment.

"I know," Elsa mumbled and cast her head down, unable to meet the redhead's gaze. "I was just so angry."

"Yeah, I'll bet. It's not exactly the first time you had a brunch with him."

"Where is he now?"

"In his room, drinking," Anna said and when Elsa made the slightest movement in her chair, she added, "And I wouldn't bother disturbing him."

"Is he... okay?" Elsa asked cautiously.

"If I humiliated you in public, how would you feel?" her sister asked, her voice had a slightly rude tone, though Elsa couldn't exactly blame her for it. "Shit, Elsa! I don't even know what to say."

She once again hung her head in shame so Anna wouldn't be able to see the stunned look on her face.

"What would... what would Mom say to you?" the redhead said with vehemence.

"Anna..."

In angry silence, her sister stood from her chair and quickly fled the dining room, leaving her alone with the bitter memory of what happened inside Honey Lemon's bar.

* * *

It was already midnight when Elsa was roused from her sleep due to thirst. She woke up in the familiar surroundings of her old bedroom, having opted to spend the night at their family home because after the brief argument she had with Anna, she felt like she owed her sister and _someone else_ an apology. She yawned, stretched, and shuffled out of the room and down the stairs as quietly as possible.

As Elsa reached for the door handle of the fridge, she saw something out of the corner of her eye, at first she thought her mind was playing tricks on her but she was proven wrong when she tilted her head towards the light pouring out from the door of her father's room. With her thirst instantly forgotten and curiousity getting the better of her, Elsa walked to the room, as she got closer, she noticed that the door was cracked open. She poked her head in and was greeted by the mild scent of alcohol, and any lingering rage and contempt she felt washed away the moment her eyes landed on her disheveled father's form. He was wandering around his room as though he was lost and was sobbing deliriously, with one hand holding a bottle of vodka, he took a swig of its content.

"I'm sorry, my love," he sobbed. "I failed you."

To get a better look, Elsa slowly opened the door a little further and quickly regretted her decision as it gave out a loud creak.

Agdar's head snapped to her direction and upon seeing her, he gave her a sad, tearful yet mocking smile.

"Why aren't you laughing at me now?" he belted, a hint of incredulous laughter in his voice. "You've always wanted to see me this way, right?"

Elsa gave no response as she stepped into the room and watched as her father continued on his painful reverie.

She felt like a dagger pierced itself through her heart at the sight.

 _Why aren't you laughing now?_ a voice inside her head repeated her father's words. _Isn't it great to see him like this?_

It should have been satisfying to see him humbled and broken, but Elsa took no pleasure from her father's pain and suffering and slowly began walking to his direction.

"Come on, give me the bottle," Elsa whispered once she was standing behind him, she then put one hand on Agdar's shoulder while the other tried to snatch the bottle of vodka from his hand, but her father wouldn't have any of it.

"No," Agdar cried histerically, tightening his grip on the bottle's neck as if his very life depended on it. "No..."

"Come on, dad," she whispered again and began wrapping her arms around her father's shoulders as he cried harder. "Come here, come here."

"I-I'm sorry," her father apologised and continued to weep as he buried his face on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug, and Elsa's heart broke with each wretched sob. Despite the tightness of Agdar's grip around her, she could tell he wasn't sure if she was indeed there by his side. "I'm so... s-sorry, Elsa. For... f-for everything."

"Shhh," Elsa hushed his cries, stroking and patting the small of his back with her hand and rocking him gently back and forth. She remained stoic throughout the whole ordeal, though she couldn't deny the storm that was slowly brewing in her eyes, and she closed her mouth as a lump formed in her throat. Slowly, she led Agdar back to his bed and was finally able to take the bottle away from his hand and put it on a nearby table.

"No, stay down," she put a hand on her father's chest and gently pushed him back down on his bed when he tried to sit up.

Elsa sat on one side of the bed and didn't leave her father's side even after his sobs quieted into slow shuddery breaths.

"I love you," Agdar whispered after a long moment. "I've always loved you. You and your sister. My two girls. You know that, right?"

"Shhh, get some sleep dad," she whispered back and patted him on the shoulder several times in an attempt to make him fall asleep and within minutes, he was finally snoring his head off though Elsa stayed for a few seconds just to make sure he was sleeping.

The aching of her heart made the short journey back to her room feel like an eternity and when she closed the door behind her, the first tear slowly made its way down her cheek, and when her knees buckled and gave away, Elsa finally allowed herself to cry.

* * *

 **AN: I can't promise you an early update after this so feel free to hate me now.**

 **Song playing inside Honey Lemon's bar was 'A Demon's Fate' by Within Temptation.**

 **I got a question, unrelated to this story, if Elsa had a different voice actress, who would you like it to be? Mine would be Sharon den Adel, the vocalist of the aforementioned band, or Cristina Scabbia from Lacuna Coil.**

 **Yeah, Queens of Metal.**


	12. Warrior's Code

**Been awhile, eh?**

* * *

 **Chapter 12.** _ **Warrior's Code**_

 _Forgive us Father, for we are about to sin_

 _Bestow upon us your grace_

 _Absolve our wrath_

 _"You're angry, Jack, I can see it in your eyes. You're angry because you know you'll never beat me. But more importantly, you're angry because our fight proved that you are nothing more than a failure, just like I've always known."_

 _Diminish our greed_

 _"This title is where it belongs. And it's not a joke when I tell you, that you, Jack Overland or God himself will never snatch it out of my cold, dead hands."_

 _"You didn't beat me, Hans, you never did and you never will. And I will make sure that you will not be the one walking out of the arena with the title around your waist._

 _Release our envy_

 _"The welterweight division is my Rome, I am its Nero, and I get every right to fiddle while everyone else in it burns."_

 _"This is my cage. I own it. And I've proven it time and time again. And at Bad Blood, say goodbye to your handsome face, say goodbye to your stupid little sideburns, and say goodbye to that precious title."_

 _Vindicate our pride_

 _"I'm superior in every way, I beat you once, and I have no problem on doing it again, and when the fight is over, you will come out to the world and say that I am better than you. If you don't, you're a liar, and if you do, you're a loser. Either way, I win._

 _"Trust me when I tell you this, the moment you step foot inside the octagon, I will break your face, I will smash your ego, I will repaint the canvas with your blood, and I will be standing tall as the new Welterweight Champion."_

As the trailer-like video package playing in the huge titantron for the upcoming main event of _UFC: Bad Blood_ ended with the image of the champion raising his title high in the air, the sold-out crowd erupted in boisterous applause and between the crowd and the song _Step Up_ by Drowning Pool suddenly blasting from the speakers, Jack could barely hear his own thoughts as he stood on the far end of the stage inside the MGM Arena before the largest crowd (for a weigh-in session that is) he'd ever seen.

 _Broken  
Yeah, you've been living on the edge of a broken dream  
Nothing  
Yeah, that's the only thing you'll ever take away from me_

When the announcer called out his name to signal him to step onto the scales, Jack wasted no time and took his shirt off, much to the delight of the squealing ringcard girls behind him, before making his way to the weighing machine. As he took a moment to assess the atmosphere inside the building, Jack felt as if he'd never left the game, like the seven months between this and his last bout never existed. But he wasn't complaining; on the contrary, after being away from the sport for quite some time (and after all the debacle he went through outside of it), he missed everything he loved about it, from the pre-fight build-up to the post-fight aftermath. He missed the roar of the fans whenever he puts someone to sleep or chokes someone until they tap. He missed the scattered jeers from supporters of the hometown heroes he's fought and beaten over the years. He missed Agdar and Eugene shouting orders at him on how to beat the hell out of the other guy inside the cage.

What Jack missed the most, however, was the fighting itself. The sound of his feet tapping lightly against the canvas as he circles around his opponent. The violent smack of flesh against flesh as he dishes out or takes an offensive strike, and the pain that comes seconds later. The sight of the canvas painted in his or his opponent's blood after everything is said and done. It is a testament to both his skill and showmanship as a fighter that whenever he enters the cage, there will always be blood.

What made combat sports, and fighting in general, so unique and special to Jack was it didn't matter who was born into wealth or not. Popularity, status, looks, they were all irrelevant. And it doesn't just decide who gets the win, the money, or the title because if you take all of those away and put the two combatants in a place where there are no crowd, no cameras and no Herb Dean, the answer is that the victor would have _killed_ the loser.

Fighters like him don't make more baskets when they throw a punch, they don't make more goals when they attempt a kick, and they don't earn more rings or trophies when their hands are raised up high in the air when they are announced the winner.

They win a literal game of life and death that was stopped before it even got there.

Fighting strips everything they are and everything they have, but their humanity. It is hardwired into their understanding of what it means to be a human.

And Jack salutes himself and his fellow fighters for understanding that better than anyone.

"170 for Mr. Overland!" the sudden announcement of his weight shook Jack out of his 'warrior's palace' and before he knew it, Hans Westergaard, the reigning champion, his rival, and the guy he was going to beat the shit out of one night from now made his way to the stage and proceeded to do everything he did just a few minutes prior.

He watched, practically murdered the man with his eyes as he hopped onto the scales. It might sound a bit hypocritical to the fans after all he said in that promo, but for Jack, it didn't matter if there was a title on the line in a fight, who fucking cares if he had it, anyway? That belt is no different to him than the one he had in his closet that holds his jeans up. But this man robbed him of his well-earned victory, and even though it doesn't take a rocket scientist to say that Jack won their first encounter by a large margin, he couldn't shake the fact that Hans had once 'defeated' him in a fight.

And to him, that was more than enough of a reason to explain the hatred he felt for his opponent and to warrant a rematch.

When the time came for the obligatory face-off after the weigh-ins, Jack got involved in the somewhat traditional wild scuffle with Hans.

And it was partly, well, _entirely_ his fault.

They were standing face-to-face on their fighting stances when Jack's clenched fist somehow made the slightest contact with Hans' shoulder before lightly pushing him back, the champion retaliated by shoving him full-force with both hands, much to the delight of the fans in attendance. They cheered as the officials scrambled to seperate the two combatants and tried to get the situation under control, then went completely wild when Hans flipped him off with double fingers before doing the DX crotch chop sign.

Jack should have been offended by the gesture. He probably should have been angry too. He should have ran into him and choked him unconscious, then rain punches on his face until it was as red as his hair.

But that would only prove that he was actually falling for his McGregor-like mind games. Which he wasn't. Besides, after all the fiasco Valentina Shevchenko went through after UFC 213, he wasn't particularly fond of the thought of this fight, which was arguably the biggest of his career, getting canceled a day before it even happened because he acted like a whiny kid who lost his toy during the weigh-ins.

As he was escorted out of the stage, the song playing overhead reached its bridge with Jason 'Gong' Jones singing the lyrics, ' _And now you've crossed the line. You must be out your mind..._ ', and Jack smirked. The song really described their rivalry as a whole.

* * *

"Ooh, that was a lot of hostility there," Eugene laughed as he sat beside him on the bench inside the locker room and almost spilled a spoonful of strawberry sundae all over himself. They were watching the replay of what had transpired a few hours prior in the weigh-ins and the monitor was now showing the most interesting part of it. "Gotta admit, he had me dying when he did the DX sign."

"Well, let's see if he'll still be doing that after I break his face tomorrow," Jack shrugged. "Remember Werdum's troll face?"

"What about it?"

"As far as I know, he never did that again after Miocic KO'ed him."

The sound of a guitar riff resembling a revving engine followed by the full-of-life drum beats and another series of guitar riffs from the song _Retaliation_ by CFO$ suddenly blasted from his phone sitting at a nearby table, and Jack didn't have to guess who was attempting to phone him at the moment for he already knew who it was.

The theme song for the Ed Sheeran's lunatic cousin continued to play for what seemed like an age and Jack willed himself to be irritated because oh fine, his coach had pretty much disappeared for the entire fight week but at least he hadn't forgotten to spare him at least one phone call before the fight, when he should know that every fighter needs someone to guide them when they step foot in that fucking cage.

Coaches loved fighting as much as a fighter did, sometimes even more so, hell just ask Norman Stoney. That and pretty much anything that had to do with punches, kicks, takedowns, joint locks and chokeholds.

Which was why it was very surprising when all those media obligations, press cons and open trainings happened with no Agdar Winterhaven accompanying him.

And Jack spent much of the last two days grumbling to himself whenever another Larial Shelwani put a microphone in front of his lips, trying to get him to answer the same bullshit questions that pretty much every fight journalist spews out of their mouths.

"Fuck it," he muttered and with speed bestowed upon him by TRTitor's Cheez-its, Jack got up and snatched his phone before sliding his thumb through the screen. "Coach, where are you?" he asked, trying his hardest to not be annoyed at the thought of Agdar bailing on him on the biggest fight of his life. "In case you haven't noticed, my fight's less than twenty-four hours away."

" _Listen, Jack, I_ ," his voice trailed off, and Jack thought he heard him sigh. It sounded distant, almost as if Agdar was deliberately holding the speaker away from his mouth, but he couldn't be sure. " _I can't go there._ "

"What? Why?"

" _I-I just can't. And I assure you, Jack, it has nothing to do with you_ ," said Agdar. " _Now I don't want to sound selfish, but I'm talking about me now, I just really need to spend a little time for myself and my family._ "

"That doesn't make any goddamn sense!" Jack exclaimed, not caring if he sounded a bit like an ass. "Six weeks ago, you were so keen on this fight happening, and now you'll just walk away one day-"

" _Jack, you don't need me there,_ " Agdar interrupted him firmly. " _As a matter of fact, you never really did. You're a naturally talented fighter. I was just there to offer you some moral support._ "

"Come on, coach..." he let out a long, profound sigh.

" _Jack, my daughter is here, and I can't lose her again._ "

So _that_ was what this was all about. She's back. And Jack wasn't stupid to not know which daughter Agdar was referring to. As much as he hates to admit it, he'd missed her too, and for the briefest moment, his heart swelled with affection and excitement, he even contemplated on asking Agdar if he could talk to her for a short while, but then he remembered the last time the two of them shared a conversation. She probably wouldn't be thrilled to hear from him and besides, he has a scheduled date with someone else in the octagon tomorrow. He couldn't let her cloud his thoughts.

Not in the moment at least.

" _I gave you the best years of my life, Jack. Now I need to give my girls a bit of my time_." Agdar said after a long while, and Jack thought he heard him sniff and whisper the words, ' _before it's too late_ ,' though his ear could be fooling him. " _If you need someone to be at your corner, talk to Eugene, if he's with you, that is_."

"Okay," Jack sighed and looked at the man in question sitting on the bench, still busy with his beloved cup of strawberry sundae.

" _I'll be watching your fight the whole time, so don't screw up or I'll see._ "

This time, Jack managed to smile a little. "Don't worry about me."

" _And protect yourself at all times._ "

Though he knew Agdar was just concerned for his well-being, Jack couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Getting hurt in the octagon has never been an issue for him, if nothing else, his experience with a certain platinum blonde woman, who only happened to be the man's daughter, ironically enough, proved that the only place he really gets hurt is _out there_.

"I'll be fine, coach. You take care."

"Okay," Agdar said before hanging up and putting his phone on the table.

"What'd the man say?" Eugene suddenly queried.

"He said he can't go," answered Jack. "Something to do with his daughter."

"You mean the one you were involved with?" his friend smirked and when Jack, admittedly not in the mood for any jest, raised an eyebrow, he added. "Relax, I was just trying to lighten up the mood. So this means I'll be the one at your corner, right?"

His response came in the form of a small murmur of 'yes.'

"Alright, then," Eugene said, standing from the bench and stretching his muscles, then in worst possible Irish accent ever, he added, "Captain Fookin New Japan is at your service."

Jack rolled his eyes, but nonetheless decided to play along. "Get the fook outta here."

The two of them shared a few good chuckles and banter before both men's gazes fell to the floor as the atmosphere inside the room transitioned from being light-hearted to somber.

"Can I offer you a piece of advice?" Eugene asked in a very subdued tone after a while.

"Fire away."

"Finish him," his friend impressed him by saying those words without sounding like the announcer from Mortal Kombat, and if he wasn't so tired from all of the crap the media had put him through the past couple of days, he'd have laughed, but that wasn't the case at the moment. "Knockout, submission, I don't care how or when you do it. Just finish him, otherwise those buffoons are gonna hit you with another Montreal Screwjob."

"Gene, I promise I won't leave it to their hands this time."

"I don't believe you, Jack," Eugene shook his head and put a hand on his shoulder. "Can you do this?"

"Yeah," Jack whispered.

"Look at me," his friend snapped and punched him lightly in the arm, clearly not satisfied with his answer before giving him a chellenging look. "I wanna hear you say it."

"I can do this," he said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"Then, let's go do this."

Jack frowned. "You do realise that the fight's not happening until tomorrow, right?"

"Way to fucking ruin the mood there, Jack," Eugene grumbled. "I was trying to be motivational."

* * *

 **AN: Captain Fookin New Japan...**

 **Kill me.**

 **Shout out to the band ONLAP and their song 'Still Alive', if it weren't for them, I never would have found the inspiration to write this chapter. You can thank that song by giving it a listen.**

 **Review reply for SuxToBeMee: Lawler/MacDonald 2 (MMA), Gatti/Ward 1 (Boxing), Benoit/HHH/HBK at WMXX (Wrestling).**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **PS: I hope I didn't upset any Canadian readers with the** _ **Montreal Screwjob**_ **reference.**


	13. Run Time

**My thoughts and prayers go out to you, Furiyan. You and your family stay strong now, alright? We're here for you.**

* * *

 **Chapter 13.** _ **Run Time**_

 _Caught in a phrase  
_ _An echo in our minds  
_ _A flash, a fire  
_ _And it's burned into our eyes_

 _'Developments' by Hands Like Houses_

If there's a habit that Elsa had picked up from Agdar, it's her stubbornness. Because in the following days after the bar incident, both she and her father avoided each other like the plague. She didn't– _couldn't_ –talk to him, took her meals always at a different time, and generally tried to stay out of his way as much as possible, to the extent that she would blatantly avert her eyes when he happened to enter her line of sight.

With her anger, guilt and sadness manifesting into self-pity, Elsa spent the majority of her time locking herself inside her room with a cigarette in her mouth (she hadn't smoked in quite a while), a book in her hands and a phone filled with scores of missed calls and irate messages from her office, all the while ignoring anyone who dared on knock on her door, from her sister to the lovely old lady–what's her name again? Gerda, that's it–who has been working as a housemaid for her family for decades.

She has officially shut the world out.

What else could she do, anyways? Her work, even with the nice paycheck that came with it, got her nowhere, except back inside the small room of a big house, with a father who never knew how to be one, and a sister who keeps defending him, and right now, she's stuck in her bed, reading a stupid mystery novel because no-one gives a damn.

 _Actually, a lot of people give a damn about you_ , said a voice inside her head. _And if you'd just let them in, they–_

"Shut up," Elsa muttered to no one in particular.

It was then that she heard the sound of the door handle jiggling and before she had the chance to manoeuvre herself out of the bed, Anna had already walked in, holding a set of keys, a look of disapproval accompanying her youthful face.

Elsa groaned and popped a cancer stick into her mouth.

"How long are you planning on keeping this up?"

"Anna, I do not have the time for this," Elsa says, and there's an edge in her voice she hopes her sister will take as irritation.

"Then make time!" Anna answered back and sat on the bed next to her before taking her hand.

"Anna..." she began but the redhead continued.

"Look, I'm not going to call you out for what you did to him last week. I just want you talk to him."

Elsa looked up at her sister and released an anxious breath, her nervousness starting to coil in her stomach and making her fingers itch. Slowly, she dropped the cigarette in the ashtray.

"I don't know what to say to him," she admitted and hung her head low, surprised (but not really) when she suddenly felt tears pooling in her eyes. "Not after what I did."

Her sister was quiet for a few moments, clearly trying to compile her thoughts, then she smiled sympathetically at her before cupping her face and wiping the first fugitive tear that had began its descent down her cheek.

"Dad doesn't hate you, if that's what you're thinking. He loves you, and he wants nothing more than to make things right with you again," Anna assured her. "But he's scared, Elsa. I haven't seen him like that since... since Mom, and it's killing me."

Elsa raised an eyebrow, "He's scared?"

"Yes, very. It's why he can't come up here in your room. He fears that you might greet him with another glass of red wine, or worse, rip him a new asshole," when Elsa just stared at her in shock and confusion, she continued. "Why does that surprise you?"

"I'm the very last person I expected him to be scared of," Elsa sighed. "I mean, he spent most of his life in the corner of men whose faces literally get smashed for a living. How was that not scary for him?"

Hell, just thinking about that one MMA fight she watched out of curiosity–where there's this guy named Rory MacDonald, who ended up looking like he'd just earned a trip through the woodchipper after the said fight–was enough to give her chest palpitations.

"Because it's his job not to be afraid for them, Elsa," Anna stated with a flick of her wrist, as if dismissing the question as ridiculous. "Those men you speak of, Dad trained them how to fight. He trained them how to throw and take a punch, how to outwit their opponents and all that fighter stuff. And from what I hear, he's really good at it. I mean, _one_ of them has a twenty-two-to-one record."

She glared at her giggling sister, "Oh, don't you start."

"Oh, quiet, you. I'm just trying to help you loosen up a little," Anna let out a few more chuckles before her face softened and her smile faded. "What you did to him was... well, let's just say that rejection and humiliation were the last straws for him. That's why he's scared."

Elsa leaned her head back against the headboard and allowed her guilt to swallow her up. Her father finally made a move to keep their family from falling apart, yet there she was, splashing red wine against his face when he as much as tried to have a friendly conversation with her.

God, she had been a bitch.

"Listen, Els, I really have to go, before one of my students decides he's going to be the next John Cena."

"Anna–"

"He's in the living room. Now, go in there and talk to him. You two need time together," Anna interrupted with gentle firmness before making her way out of her room.

"Anna, wait!" Elsa half-shouted, grabbing her sister by the wrist as she finally stood up from her bed.

"What?"

Elsa answered by pulling her sister into a tight embrace. "Thank you. For everything."

Anna smiled against her shoulder, then after a few more seconds, urged her with a laugh and gave her a slight push, "Of course. Now go."

As they parted ways, Elsa took a couple of deep breaths and headed for the living room downstairs as instructed. This was it, she thought. She was going to have _the_ talk with him, and whether or not it ends in a positive note, she'll see to it that she'll finally have a bit of closure. Elsa wasn't prepared in the slightest, but at the same time, she'd never felt more ready for anything in her life. Taking another deep, long breath, she finally entered the living room, and the moment she her eyes landed on her father who was sitting on the sofa with his eyes focused firmly on the television screen, her eagerness was instantly replaced by trepidation, and Elsa was positive her heart had stopped when he tilted his head and spotted her.

"Elsa?" Agdar breathed. "I, um... good morning."

"Hi... Dad, um, g-good morning," Elsa stammered.

Crap.

"Would you like some?" he asked tentatively, holding out a bowl of biscuits in front of her.

She nodded and plopped down to the empty space next to him. Unsure of what to do, Elsa gingerly took a piece of cracker and put it in her mouth. Surprisingly, it tasted good. When she looked up at her father, she found him fidgeting with his fingers uncomfortably whilst hanging his head low and after she swallowed the biscuit in her mouth, Elsa decided she'd had enough.

"Dad?" she began hesitantly after a few seconds.

"Mmhh?" Agdar hummed, still not looking at her.

Elsa felt a blush flood her cheeks, and, much to her dismay, found herself casting her eyes down. She felt even more mortified when the silence grey between them, deep, heavy and awkward.

Wordlessly, she swallowed a mouthful of saliva to calm her rapidly-beating heart. "Dad... I'm..."

"I am so sorry, Elsa," her father blurted out, almost startling her. When she looked up at him again, tears were already streaming down his face. "You'll never know just how sorry I am. Sorry that everything has to be this way. I know you never wanted this. I know you just wanted me to be here for you, but... I was a mess. An old miserable mess."

Her mouth started to open but she found out that her father had more to say.

"Look," he continued and took her one of her hands, this time, she didn't try to pull away. "I'll leave the sport. For us, for you, your sister and me. I want things to be good, or at least to be okay between us." Agdar sniffed and wiped his eyes. "But I understand if you want me out of your life, say the word and I'll do it. It's just... you're my little girl, and I don't want you to hate me."

By the end of his speech, Elsa her gave her father the Pia Wurtzbach stare, a million thoughts going through her mind. Just why? Why did it take twenty long years for them to _finally_ have a father-daughter conversation that didn't involve the two of them hurting each other with their disgusting choices of words? She wanted to sob, laugh and scream all at once.

"I hated you," she said, blinking her own tears away, Agdar's face fell and he let go of her hands. "I hated you for the longest time. And you see, I can't just forgive you for what you did to us, Dad–I just can't. You sucked the life out of our family when you left us for your sport. And a big part of me... always wanted to hurt you for that. I did. I admit. That was the only catharsis I know."

"Elsa..."

"But I'll give you this: I'm willing to start all over again," she paused, met her father's eyes, and her heart swelled when she saw him smiling ever-so-slightly. "I'll give you the chance to be the father you should have been."

"You... you'd do that for me?"

"Not just for you. I'm also doing this for Mom, and Anna. God knows how tired they are from watching us tear each other apart."

They smiled at one another and didn't speak after that. The silence that ensued shortly after was a surprisingly comfortable one. There was tension in the air, but it was different this time; rather than awkward and hostile, it was hopeful and promising.

After several moments, Agdar snaked an arm around her before pulling her against him–Elsa didn't object and let her head rest against his shoulder–and reached over to tuck a blonde lock behind her ear, letting his fingers smooth his daughter's cheek as he did. Closing her eyes, Elsa savoured the bliss, this was definitely the closest, the happiest, she'd ever been with him.

Agdar Winterhaven was by no means perfect. He was stubborn, proud, self-absorbed and ambitious.

But then again, she realised, so was she.

"Dad?" Elsa asked, pulling head away.

"Yeah?"

"Why Jack? Why did you try to get me to be with him?"

It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself, and it wasn't until the question was lingering in the air that Elsa realised that was one of the things that had been bothering her for the past few months. What was so special about Jack that her father deemed him more than suitable enough for his eldest daughter? Sure he was a fighter, and one of Agdar's guys to boot, but Elsa knew there was much more to it than that, because if Agdar just wanted her to be with one of his boys and not Jack, he would have played the matchmaker much earlier than her sister's birthday.

There's also the fact that he never messed with Anna's lovelife. He never paired her up with one of his protégés and not once did he ever question her choice of significant other.

When it came to her relationships, on the other hand, however...

Yeah, she just wants to know why, of all the guys who worked out in that godforsaken gym of his, Agdar chose the white-haired stud for her.

"I'll make the it simple," he sighed. "I tried to get you two together because I thought it might be a start."

Elsa frowned, "Start of what?"

"For us to finally heal."

"How's that going to–"

"If you had become involved with each other, I could have balanced my time between you and him. I get to be Jack's coach, I get to be your dad, and both of you get a piece of me. It could have been a triple-win situation," her father laughed, short and bitter. "I was looking for a road to finally get to you. And when I learned you were coming back, I knew I just had to get him there with you. Obviously, that didn't work out now, did it?"

"Right," Elsa nodded, only to shake her head a moment later. "But you didn't really answer my question."

It was Agdar's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

"I asked _'Why him?'_ " said Elsa. "What was it in him that made you decide that he was... _perfect_... for me."

 _Because he's handsome, he's hot, he's got the most striking blue eyes ever, his abs are delicious as sin, and he made you come twice the number of your age_ , god she's definitely going to turn into Randy Orton one of these days. That voice inside her head again!

Agdar looked at her with unsure eyes, "What do you want to know about him?"

"Just anything, really," she shrugged. "Like, what was he like when you first cornered him?"

It was quiet again for a few moments after that. Then out of nowhere, Agdar laughed, like _really_ laughed, and Elsa stared at him as if he'd just grown a second head. His smile never faded as his cackling came to an end, and he inched back against the couch and let his head fall on the backrest, staring blankly up the ceiling.

"You're going to love this," he said, still grinning.

* * *

 _ **11 years earlier**_

 _The struggle is real. Very real. Agdar felt it. And this guy isn't helping their cause either. At all._

 _Because, seriously? How many times is this white-haired bastard going to stop punches with his face?_

 _Agdar has been yelling at the top of his all night long from his corner for him to keep his hands up and s_ _top acting like he's the second coming of Sergio Martinez. But it seemed that White Hair was more interested in listening to the crowd that had been showering him with jeers._

 _"Don't be a fucking pussy and fight back!" someone yelled, high-pitched and brutal. "You fucking jerk-off!"_

 _"Fuck you, Frosty!" screamed another, just as Agdar watched in horror as his protégé walked right into vicious straight right that slammed into his nose._

 _"Oh, no."_

 _Everything around him ceased to exist and he could no longer register the wild cheers of the audience as White Hair staggered backwards on his heels before his back hit the fence, and his opponent wasted no time and unloaded a blitzkrieg of everything. The kid curled up in a ball as he was beaten to oblivion._

 _Agdar looked away, closed his eyes, and prepared for the worst..._

 _ ***Ding Ding Ding***_

 _His eyes snapped open. He heard the bell. Barely. It was almost lost to the rising chorus of the crowd's roar._

 _In breakneck speed, Agdar entered the cage, carrying a stool and helped his limping fighter plant his butt on it._

 _"I'll fucking kill him," White Hair spat as he caught his breath._

 _"No, listen. He's too tall and he has a longer reach. What you need to do is feint with a jab and kick his legs apart, okay?" Agdar said as he worked vaseline on the huge cut above the kid's left eye. "And keep your hands up. He's been nailing you all night long, and if you don't listen to what I say, I'll stop the fight, you understand me?"_

 _"Fuck off."_

 _He gripped the vaseline jar tighter and glared at him, "No, don't tell me that. Don't say those things to me."_

 _"No, no, fuck off. Yeah, he's tall and he's gonna nail me, what you work for him now, or what?"_

 _His fighters never pissed him off before, and this prick is turning out to be a remarkable first timer._

 _"Are you out of mind?" he growled, but the little fucker didn't seem to have heard him._

 _"Yeah, he has a longer reach, and he's this and that..." White Hair rambled._

 _"Hey, what am I doing here, huh?! I don't need this," and again, his words fell on deaf ears._

 _"He's better than me. That's what you're trying to say, right?"_

 _Alright, that's it!_

 _"Listen, you stupid little fuckhead!" Agdar snapped and pushed against White Hair's shoulders. "You want me to leave you here? I can leave you here all by yourself. Now behave yourself, act like a grown-up, and stop being a baby!"_

 _"No, I'm fucking with you," the kid breathed. "I'm nervous, okay?"_

 _"I know you're nervous, alright," he argued._

 _"Then don't make it worse."_

 _"You–I'm..._ you _are making it worse!" Agdar hissed, pointing at his fighter's chest._

 _"Okay, relax–" White Hair began, but he is having none of it._

 _"No, you relax!" he said with finality, breathing a sigh of relief when the kid seemed to have calmed down at last. "Heed my word, and you'll still win this fight, trust me. Now go out there and show everyone what you can do, alright? You lead the way. You be the boss."_

* * *

Elsa expected herself to wrinkle her nose at the very least, but much to her surprise, she cackled audibly by the end of her father's pathetic little tale. What made his story even funnier was the fact that she never heard him let out so many curse words before.

"He really..." she said, amidst her breathless laughter. "He really told you those things?"

Her father grinned at her, looking so proud that he finally managed to split his daughter's sides.

"Yes. Yes he did," Agdar nodded. "Jack was a pain in the ass back then. Sometimes, he still is."

"What happened to the fight?"

"He won, of course," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Knocked the guy out with a high kick, then he soared through the air with the greatest of ease and punched his unconscious face."

"Oh, my god," Elsa giggled as she started to calm herself.

"He was just like you."

Upon hearing Agdar's words, Elsa's laughter died down, her smile faded and she regarded her father with a stony expression.

"What?"

"He reminded me so much of you, Elsa," Agdar explained. "Every time I worked with Jack," he sighed and shook his head, gazing out the window. "I felt like I was... I was seeing you in him, you know? I mean, you share a lot things; attitude, spirit, the mentality that don't really need me."

"Dad..."

"That's why I thought you two would be perfect for each other," he finished. "You have a knack for giving me hell."

For like the umpteenth time that morning, the two of them shared another moment of silence.

That's why he played the shipper on deck.

He was just like her.

As unbelievable as that sounded, Elsa didn't feel surprised in the slightest. Why would she be? She and Jack found out that they have a lot in common during that three-day sexcapade they had with each other.

She smirked, she shook her head, and let out a humourless chuckle.

"What's funny?" Agdar asked.

"Nothing, Dad," Elsa shrugged. "Nothing."

She opened her mouth again to speak, only to let out a gasp when the television screen (it's been on for like forever and she hadn't realised she had been ignoring it) showed the footage of a white-haired man inside of what looked like a locker room.

Then her eyes landed on the gloves, kick pads and the small punching bag lying on the floor.

It was a fighter's locker room. Wait, so that means...

"He's... he's going to fight today?" Elsa choked.

"Yes," Agdar muttered. "You don't have to watch this."

And he's right. She doesn't need to. As a matter of fact she doesn't _want_ to. Elsa knows she can't stomach a second viewing of a sport that involved its participants trying to remotely kill each other.

Especially if one of those participants is a man whom she felt she had some fort of connection with.

But her legs and feet wouldn't budge and her ass remained planted on the couch. It's almost as if something inside her (no, not that voice and more like her gut feeling) deliberately wants her to stay put.

If that makes sense.

Her father always talked about how watching someone fight will tell you everything you need to know about that person.

Well, she supposes, her gut feeling is telling her that it'll be a good way for her to learn something about him.

That, and the fact that it'll be a good excuse for her to see him again without his shirt on.

She flushed. _Dammit!_

"I want... I want to watch," Elsa said, hoping that her voice didn't shake like she thought it did.

"Alright, then," Agdar sighed and reached out for the remote control before increasing the volume of the television.

* * *

 **AN: Vitor Belfort and Michael Bisping have officially left the sport of Mixed Martial Arts, and those two retirements just made me realise that the era of MMA fighters I grew up watching is slowly coming to an end.**

 ***Pouts in Filipino***

 **Anyway, we only have a few more chaps to go. Just bare with me, okay?**

 **Thanks for reading.**


End file.
